


isn't it lovely, all alone?

by Anonymous



Series: oh i hope some day i'll make it out of here [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anarchist TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dehydration, Disabled Character, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Interrogation, Kidnapping, Older Sibling Niki | Nihachu, Pandora's Vault, Poor thing, President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Swearing, The Prison, Torture, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Toby Smith | Tubbo, Waterboarding, What Have I Done, Whump, like irl chat, no beta we die like l'manberg, suicide ideation, techno's chat is all-knowing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28829736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Imprisoned for his betrayal against L'Manberg, Ranboo tries to survive the harsh treatment that comes with his new traitor status while Niki and the anarchists try and figure out what the hell is going on.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu & Ranboo, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: oh i hope some day i'll make it out of here [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140764
Comments: 143
Kudos: 880
Collections: Anonymous





	1. heart made of glass, my mind of stone

**Author's Note:**

> *dumps this at ur feet* sbi dynamic, big sister niki, a very big and not blown up lmanberg, the cabinet being dicks, the prison being used and dream manipulating minors  
> you're welcome :)
> 
> (all titles from billie eilish's 'lovely')

His journal had been read out, live in front of a dozen people, and Ranboo was screwed.

Before, it wouldn’t have been so bad. In the arenas, no one truly cared for a battered old leather-bound book filled with the rambles of an amnesiac (half) enderman.

Here, it was a different story. In the minefield of betrayals and traitors and executions and delicate political games, Ranboo found himself walking on a thin rope of keeping his various friends separate in his efforts _not_ to out himself as a ‘traitor.’

(He wasn’t really. Ranboo couldn’t be a traitor if he wasn’t on a side in the first place.)

The festival had gone poorly. More than poorly. Techno and Tommy had shown. Tubbo had screamed at them, and Dream had stood up before everyone in the ruined community house and read out Ranboo’s journal. Tommy only shot him a sympathetic look before disappearing with his older brother, as the world crashed down around his pointed ears.

Enderchest blinked up at him with lamp-like eyes, curling up on his lap. Her weight was grounding on his legs, stretched out across the floor he sat on. She meowed gently, snuggling right up to his chest, and Ranboo sighed fondly, arms curling around her. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Some telepathic signal must’ve passed through the house, because Ranboo’s other pets plonked themselves at either side, creating a furry barrier against the world. He smiled, tight and small, fingers twisting in his wolf’s (he _really_ needed to name him) fur. “I don’t deserve you guys,” he announced in a soft voice to his house, head leaning against the spruce plank wall.

“Ranboo!” He jolted at the knock on the door, accidentally scaring Enderpearl away.

He winced. “Sorry!” he hissed at her. Then he turned his attention to the door. “Who is it?” His voice shook a little, feeling around for his memory book in his pocket and gripping the leather with sharp claws and scrambled to his feet

“It's Tubbo!”

Oh Dragon, the president. Oh, it was the ~~child~~ man he’d just betrayed.

“Uh. It’s unlocked.” The doorknob turned. His wolf stood by him, his head reaching Ranboo’s thigh, in almost an aggressive manner. Cautiously, he pat its head. “It’s okay, boy.”

He swallowed down the fear. He was okay. He was fine.

Tubbo stood in the doorway, a vacant smile gracing his features. He wasn’t alone. Behind him, standing ominously, were Fundy, Quackity and—

“Why hello there, Ranboo!” Dream exclaimed. His heart plummeted to his stomach. He went cold but forced a smile.

“Hey guys.” Taking an unconscious step back at the clear hostility in Fundy’s eyes, he tried to make himself look as tall and intimidating as he could. “What’s up?”

Tubbo sucked in a breath and searched Ranboo’s face. Ranboo looked away, refused eye contact, pursing his lips. “You know what’s up, Ranboo.” He sounded sad. Devastated. “I thought you were loyal to us. That was one of the rules we put up down there. And you broke it.”

“I-listen I didn’t—” Ranboo scrambled for a defence, one arm flailing wildly while the other hand was still intertwined with the fur of his wolf’s neck. “You know I don’t believe in sides, Tubbo—”

“It’s Mr President,” and Ranboo winced at the icy tone.

“Mr President, I’m sorry, but—”

“The _first_ thing you do is go help Technoblade after his execution,” Tubbo continued bitterly. “You helped the man who set _two_ withers on this place.” He tried to look dead at Ranboo’s eyes. “You helped the man who executed me.”

 _Execute, execute, execute_. The word bounced around helplessly in Ranboo’s mind, carrying a massive weight on it. There was too much fear that came with those three syllables. Did L’Manberg believe in reciprocity. Would Ranboo be—

“Just,” Ranboo said, a little harsher than he wanted, “just _listen_ to me—”

“I _won’t!_ Tommy had been alive this _whole_ time and you didn’t think to mention it! You let me plan his fucking funeral, Ranboo!”

“I didn’t-I didn’t mean to!” Staggering back a step, he noticed the wolf prowl forward with a snarl, standing in front. Dream drew a weapon, looking at it murderously. Ranboo dropped to his knees, overwhelmed by the panic eating away at his stomach and threw his arms around its neck. “N-no! He’s harmless, I swear!”

He didn’t want to die.

The thought permeates his mind. Pushing against every corner of his brain, every nook and cranny until his whole being was filled with that single statement.

_He didn’t want to die._

~~A part of him wondered how they’d do it. If they’d use water. Ranboo felt sick.~~

Tubbo nodded at Dream, who put the axe away. He took a step forward and Ranboo had to bury the instinct to make himself small. “Ranboo. I’m sorry for this,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, and Ranboo felt like he was floating, barely listening to the conversation while waiting for his death warrant to be signed, “but you’re being arrested under L’Manberg law for aiding and abetting criminals.”

Oh. “What?” Ranboo asked, wondering if he’d misheard. Already, his memory was starting to slip in the high stress situation. He didn’t even remember why he was on the ground.

“You’re being arrested, Ranboo. Don’t try and resist or we’ll…” And here Tubbo faltered.

Dream stepped in however, brandishing a blade at the wolf. Ranboo’s mouth hung open. He wouldn’t! Surely. “Come on, Ranboo. Don’t make this hard.”

“I—" He looked around at the cabinet, the stony expressions, their eyes that didn’t care. “Can I say bye first?” he asked, small and thready, slowly detaching himself from the wolf and glancing back at his cats, which still sat there, peering at the newcomers curiously.

Tubbo nodded, gaze steely. “Dream will escort you there. Gentlemen, let’s go.”

“Okay.” Ranboo didn’t have the courage to complain about the eyes on the back of his skull as he went around his little house and gave all of his pets a pat goodbye as the door slammed shut behind his former friends, biting his lip as he tried not to burst into tears. He couldn’t appear weak. Not now. “Bye Enderchest,” he whispered, hugging his cat. She purred in his arms and he chirped back quietly with a strained smile. “Keep them safe while I’m gone, okay?”

How long would he be gone for? He didn’t know.

She seemed to gauge that something was wrong and nuzzled Ranboo’s cheek gently, meowing at him. She didn’t lick him, though. She knew not to, instead lending comfort in other ways.

“Time to go,” Dream announced a little too soon, and Enderchest leapt out of his arms with a hiss toward Dream. Fingers latched around Ranboo’s upper arm and he winced, tugging away before stopping himself and letting Dream drag him out of his house. The air was cold, and the sky was dark. “No teleporting, please.” Ranboo shook his head. He wouldn’t dare.

With a final glance back at his home, light seeping through the windows, Ranboo turned his gaze downward, noticing Tubbo, Fundy and Quackity walking up ahead and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

* * *

“Items in there,” Dream ordered before drawing his axe for the thirtieth time during their journey, and succeeding in scaring Ranboo for the thirtieth time in a row. He dropped everything he had on him in that chest including his crown and gloves, eventually pulling out his memory book and looking at Dream with hopeful eyes.

“Can I? I-I want to remember, and this’ll help,” he tried, clutching it tight to his chest. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if it were taken away.

Dream hummed a little and sighed. “Fine. As long as you behave and cooperate, you can keep it.”

Warmth lit up in Ranboo’s chest as his hands loosened their grip on the book. “Thank you!” he said with as much gratitude as he could muster. “Thank you so much!” Ranboo let out an involuntary gargle as he moved away from the chests.

Dream’s hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder and he froze as a voice whispered right next to his ears. “Don’t do that. Don’t make that sound. It’s not natural.”

Ranboo nodded jerkily, his breathing stuttering. “O-okay.” He swallowed thickly. “Can-can I have a pen?”

One was slipped into his hand and he flipped open the book, and went to an empty page.

_You are in prison for betraying L’Manberg. Do not resist._

_If you misbehave, your book will be taken away._

_Do not make the noises. Dream does not like them._

He felt the mask looking over his shoulder at the shaky words, heard an approving hum.

“Now!” Dream slung a suffocating arm around Ranboo’s shoulders. “Let’s get you to your cell. We can talk later on, after you’ve settled.” Something in his voice was sharp and sent a stab of fear through his belly but he nodded silently, nonetheless.

* * *

“Hello Niki!” Ghostbur called.

He saw sadness flash in her eyes before she straightened to look at him properly. “Hello Ghostbur.” Something in her tone was rather cold and distant but he didn’t really mind, only offering some Blue to her.

“Have some blue! It’ll be okay!”

She laughed a little and Ghostbur counted that as a definite win. “Thank you. I-I’m not sure if things will be better anymore but I’m glad for the-for the Blue.”

Ghostbur nodded eagerly. “Of course! Where are you going now?”

She shifted from one foot to another. “I was going to visit Ranboo, actually. Just to see how he’s doing after…all that.” Niki looked up at him and gestured up the stairs to Ranboo’s home. “Would you like to come with?”

“Oh yes! I can give him some Blue as well!”

With a little smile, Niki led the way, standing on the porch and knocking on the spruce door. “Ranboo?” she called gently. “Are you home?” Silence. Niki looked vaguely worried. Ghostbur stared down at the Blue staining his hands. “Ranboo!” She rapped on the door again. “Ranboo, I promise I’m not mad! I just want to see if you’re doing alright!”

Still nothing. “Maybe he isn’t home?” Ghostbur offered, but Niki shook her head.

“He’d tell me,” she whispered, horrified. “Or—oh Dragon, what have I _done?_ ” Instead of knocking again, Niki grabbed the door and wrenched it open, nearly falling forward with the momentum. It wasn’t locked. That was unorthodox. “Ranboo!” she called to the house that was empty, save his pets. Enderchest meowed when she saw her but stayed curled up next to Enderpearl. The others didn’t move.

Nothing had been disturbed. There was a little snow from outside that was beginning to melt (she made a mental note to clean it up later) but otherwise, the house was undisturbed.

Something felt off. The hairs on her arms rose at this new feeling. Surely, she hadn’t driven her brother away. Surely!

“Niki?” Ghostbur asked, uncharacteristically solemn. “Maybe he isn’t at home right now, but that doesn’t mean he won’t ever come back.”

Tears pricked her eyes at the gentle words as she nodded. “Right.” _Oh Dragon, what if he’d run away?_ “Right. I-do you want to go to the bakery?” she asked, forcing her voice to not shake.

“Of course!” Niki had to turn away slightly. He looked far too similar to Alivebur.

Niki left, holding the door opened as the ghost placed a chunk of Blue on top of a furnace and pet the wolf, staining its fur. She wondered if Ranboo would mind.

* * *

Ranboo’s back ached.

It wasn’t too bad, perse. But still noticeable enough to fill his waking days with discomfort. The low ceilings of his cell made it impossible for him to stand up straight (not that he ever did anyway) and forced him to spend most of his time sitting on the floor. That part sucked.

 _(The first thing Ranboo noticed when he entered his new cell was how_ small _it was. He wouldn’t even be able to straighten out fully in it. The second thing he noticed was the distinct absence of furniture. Not a desk, not a bed, not a chair. Nothing._

_As he stepped in and flinched at the sound of the lock shuttering, he turned around to glance at Dream’s shoes. “I was-uh Dream I was just—”_

_“Look at me when you talk, Ranboo,” Dream cut in, sounding pissed._

_Ranboo nodded and shifted his gaze upward, settling it in the space between the dot eyes and the wide smile on his mask. “Where’s the, uh, bed?” he asked quietly._

_Dream just scoffed. “You’re an enderman, dumbass. You don’t need a bed.”_

_Oh. That hurt. Ranboo had never particularly cared for his genetics and heritage, sometimes even finding it within himself to feel pride at it. Sure, sometimes people could be…discriminatory over it. Drawing weapons in his presence, making faces at his sounds or glancing away when he looked at them. But it was never like this._

_“I’m-I mean I grew up human. I’m-I’m used to sleeping in a bed,” Ranboo said meekly._

_Dream sighed, bringing his fingers up to his temple and massaging it. “Shut up!” he snapped. “You’re lucky you weren’t executed!” Ranboo flinched at the harsh words and bringing his book up to his chest as if it was a shield. “Quackity was calling for your blood and Tubbo was about to agree to it. You wanna know who saved your ungrateful ass? Do you?”_

_Ranboo shook like a leaf but nodded. “Wh-who?” he whispered._

_A hand was raised to lift the mask just a little to show Dream’s grim smile. Ranboo stared at it openly, at the scar that ran through his lips and disappeared underneath the porcelain mask. “Me. I saved you. So you will stop complaining or I’ll take the damn book away. Do I make myself clear?”_

_“Ye-yessir!” He was pressed against the obsidian wall (why did it look so much like his panic room?), curling in on himself to become smaller. “I’m s-sorry.”_

_“Good.” Approval laced Dream’s tone. “I’ll be back in a few days to decide what to do with you. Don’t do anything stupid.” And with that, he left._

_It never occurred to Ranboo to ask exactly how long he would be in prison for.)_

It had been two days since then, judging by the clock on the wall. Ranboo had been alone in the cell with nothing but his mind, his faulty memories and his book. He was allowed to keep the pen though, which gave him something to do. Namely drawing. They weren’t great, Ranboo knew, but he reckoned that they were the only thing keeping him from going insane.

Niki could draw really well, but thinking of her brought a lump to his throat.

Besides drawing, there wasn’t anything to do other than count the blackstone bricks that made up the floor.

(‘83’, he wrote in his journal, tired of forgetting every few hours.)

Ranboo wasn’t sure but something about the prison sapped his energy. The moment he stepped foot within its walls, he just felt drained. And tired. So tired that he spent hours napping on the floor.

It didn’t matter, really. He’d still feel tired when he woke up. Ranboo attributed that to the anxiety. And the food. Only a bit of bread and some vegetables. He was already feeling the affects of hunger.

The silence was nice though. He could hear his own thoughts for once. Which, granted, wasn’t the best thing, but it was better than nothing.

Sudden footsteps from down the hall made him jump.

Brisk and light, almost as if they didn’t want to be heard. Ranboo knew it was Dream before he even stopped by. The mask turned to stare at him, and Ranboo looked down pointedly, straightening from his slouching position. “Hello?” he mumbled, half-asleep already. The memory book was beside him, and he moved it closer to his body.

When Dream spoke, there was a smile on his face. “Good evening Ranboo! It’s your interrogation today!”

Ranboo felt his brain reboot. “My-my _what?_ ”

“Your interrogation.” Dream leaned against the bars of the cell casually. “I told you, back when we brought you in here, didn’t I? You know, getting a confession out of you.” At Ranboo’s complete confusion, he went on. “For blowing up the Community House. I told you all of this after I let you keep the memory book.”

_No he didn’t! You would’ve written it down!_

“You didn’t say that!” Ranboo protested, flicking through his book. There was _nothing_ about the Community House or an interrogation!

“Oh come on now. I did! You probably just forgot it.”

Did he? That sounded like something he’d do. And Ranboo rarely put things like that in his book either. “I-I think I would’ve remembered destroying a building,” he said as the doubts crept in.

“Ranboo, I have eyewitness accounts. I saw it. Quackity saw it. Fundy saw it. You did it.”

Ranboo’s gut twisted. “N-no. That doesn’t-that isn’t something I’d do!”

Dream growled, low in his throat as he unlocked the cell and reached out an arm. Ranboo let out a terrified chirp, struggling to his feet and stumbling over, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling. “Just fucking come with me, and we’ll figure it out. And _quit_ making that End-forsaken sound.”

That was a stupid sentence because that sound _came_ from the End, but Ranboo decided to clam up.

He was dragged down an obsidian corridor. And then another. And then another. More and more until Ranboo wasn’t even sure if he’d remember the way back.

Maybe that was what they’d wanted.

They walked until reaching an iron door, activated by a pressure plate. Ranboo was ~~shoved~~ escorted through, stumbling a little. The ceiling was higher in here at least.

When he looked up, he locked eyes with Fundy and Quackity, both of which looking cold and unforgiving. “So the traitor decides to join us, does he?” (he really had no choice in the matter) Quackity asked and his voice sent a shiver down the boy’s spine (or lack of, honestly). Fundy said nothing, but Ranboo couldn’t miss the disappointment, the resignation in his severe gaze.

Ranboo looked down. Felt his knees wobble and nearly give out. Terror consumed him and his heart beat frantically. Erratically. He faltered, stepping back shakily to find himself hitting an armoured chest. Arms wrapped around him, crushing him in their grip.

Water buckets. There were buckets filled with water surrounding a table.

_No. No no no no no no no, he wouldn’t! He would for a dirty little traitor, I didn’t betray anyone, you did, or they wouldn’t do this, please not like this!_

“Pl-please,” he begged, starting to shake and squirm in Dream’s grip, digging his heels into the ground. “Please, _please,_ not like this! Please, I swe-swear I didn’t do it!”

The arms tightened around him. Dream walked forward, dragging Ranboo with him. “Come on. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

“ _Please Dream!_ Fun-Fundy, you have to believe me! I d-didn’t do it! I would-would’ve remembered!”

Fundy glanced away. Quackity’s eyes bored holes into his skull. “I saw it, Ranboo. You did it.”

Something more enderman than human ripped its way out of his mouth. A screech, cut off quickly when Dream spun him around and crushed his throat with one hand, slammed him down onto the table. Ranboo saw stars. “How many times do I have to get it through your thick fucking skull _not_ to make those _fucking_ noises!”

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! I didn’t mean to!_

There were other hands on him now. Stretching his limbs, tying them down, restraining them. Dream’s fingers stayed locked around his throat, not pressing down but not leaving either.

There were tears in his eyes. Helpless tears pooling at the corners, tears that _burned_ as they slipped down his cheeks. “P-please,” he choked out in a whisper. “I-I’m inno-innocent I swear—”

A bucket was slammed down near him and the sound drew a terrified yelp from Ranboo. “Quackity,” Dream said through gritted teeth, “the cloth.”

Cloth? What cloth? Were they going to gag him?

“Too bad Tubbo couldn’t make it,” Quackity mused over the sound of splashing water. Ranboo couldn’t breathe, felt his chest be crushed under the weight of a thousand anvils as he waited in helpless anticipation for the pain, the death.

_You deserve this._

He didn’t.

“Yeah,” Fundy replied. “Probably for the better, you know?”

Ranboo was dying. He was _dying_ and he’d be dead before the water hit because oh Ender they were going to splash him with water and it was going to burn and kill him and no one would care or notice because he’d betrayed everyone and everyone who’d loved him once hated him now including Niki—

Something wet was slapped over his face.

_He was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying he was dying—_

He couldn’t breathe, he was burning, his face was burning and he was in a fire or maybe he was finally dying he hoped he was dying he wished he was dying he wanted to be dying because he couldn’t breathe and it _burned_ and he wanted Niki so bad but she hated him and he was dying and Dream was laughing why was he laughing?

And then Ranboo could breathe. He was burning but he could breathe.

Water had slipped down his throat, so he turned his head to the side and coughed. Coughed and coughed and coughed, his body wracked with convulsions and shudders until he tasted blood on his tongue, until it dribbled down his chin. Blood didn’t burn.

He couldn’t stop coughing, not for f ages and ages, not until after he was sure he’d lost his voice, after he was sure that he’d never talk again.

Ranboo sucked in a gasping breath, lips feeling too swollen, his skin _burning_.

“Did you blow up the Community House?” Dream asked, right next to his ear.

He hadn’t! He was sure he hadn’t.

_You can’t be trusted. You know that._

But still, Ranboo slowly shook his head, tears continuing to spill over.

He heard the splash of water again as Dream sighed for the umpteenth time. “Ngh-no…” he wheezed through too-big lips that stung and smarted as he moved them. Ranboo shook his head feebly, feeling him come closer, trying to cringe away from it.

Someone ran a hand through his hair, and he unconsciously leant into the touch. “Just confess,” Fundy said, and he sounded sad. “It’ll be okay if you do.”

But Ranboo was innocent! He wouldn’t do that! He couldn’t! Ranboo never had access to TNT. He’d never made it here before.

_How would you know? You’d have forgotten if you had._

Ranboo’s lip wobbled. “Pl-please,” he said brokenly, voice hoarse to the point of being unrecognisable. “It _hurts_ , please.”

“Fundy, hold him down.”

Ranboo felt those same hands grab his head and pull it straight. “Go ahead, Dream.”

“No, no, no, n—”

It was worse the second time.

The second time, the nerves that were already on fire burnt out completely, sending a shock through Ranboo’s body. He twitched and shuddered, not being able to make any sound as water began to trickle down his throat, scorching burning _burning burning burning burning—_

His body was wracked with convulsions as he twisted and writhed, not even able to scream in his state, flailing, twitching limbs desperately tugging at their restraints that didn’t give. Fundy turned away. Quackity looked morbidly fascinated.

Dream’s expression, locked behind white porcelain, was impossible to gauge. “Should we stop it?” Fundy asked, barely a whisper.

A shake of his head. Ranboo’s movements were beginning to slow.

At the one-minute mark, Dream peeled the cloth off his face, marvelling at the burning that was sure to leave scarring eventually. Blisters were already beginning to form, and reddish-purple blood dripped down onto the table. His breaths were raggedy and shallow, his eyes unfocused. Ranboo didn’t respond when Dream snapped his fingers over his face.

“Can you speak?” he asked. No answer, so he pulled out a bottle of pink potion. The gentle scent of watermelon, so at odds with the stain of misery left by the blood, filled the air. Dream dumped the thick potion over Ranboo’s face.

It didn’t burn or sting. It tingled a little bit and Ranboo could feel parts of his flesh knitting itself together, but that was weird, not painful. It numbed his torched nerves. Probably repaired them as well.

“Can you speak?” Quackity this time.

Ranboo shook his head slowly, testing out miniscule movements slowly. Dream grabbed either side of his jaw with one hand and squeeze, drawing a whimper as his mouth was forced open while his muscles and skin protested fiercely. Healing was tipped down his throat.

It was the best thing he’d tasted in the last two days.

“Talk for me.”

“D-Dream,” Ranboo rasped, voice like sandpaper.

“Good. One more time. Did you burn down the community house?”

_You probably did, I wouldn’t do that! You can’t trust yourself anymore. You know this._

_I do. I do know that. But I didn’t do this. I think._

_You think?_

_I think._

“N-no.”

Dream dragged a hand down his mask with a groan. “Maybe we’ll get somewhere the next time.”

Next time. The thought of there being a next time made Ranboo want to curl up and cry. He flinched away at the hands undoing the bindings, at the person who wrenched him forward into a sitting position from which he hunched over, bringing up gentle fingers to prod around the damage and discreetly wipe away the tears. “Pl-please,” he mumbled, desperation creeping into his tone. “I would-wouldn’t do th-that.”

“And how are you so sure?” Dream challenged. “We all _saw_ you!”

“I—” He scrubbed at his eyes. “There mu-must be a mist-mistake.”

“We’re not the ones seeing things, Ranboo. I’ll take him back. You guys tell the President everything we found out.”

* * *

Ghostbur wasn’t exactly sure _how_ he stumbled across the great, big, black obsidian structure in the middle of nowhere. He had already forgotten the directions, mostly because the rain drove him to find shelter. Quickly too.

So, he did what any normal person would do, and took refuge inside, phasing through the walls. It was a little difficult. They were much thicker than he’d previously imagined them to be, but he got there in the end. It wasn’t as if ghosts needed to breathe anyway.

Ghostbur landed in front of a huge door, circular in shape and probably linked up to loads of redstone that he hadn’t the heart to break or the patience to look into.

Curiosity was one of the few truly human attributes that seemed to have passed onto Ghostbur after his death, because the next thing he knew, he’d phased right through it, bypassing every single safety measure that had been meticulously installed.

He wandered down the obsidian hallways, remarking at the darkness that surrounded him. There wasn’t much light, save for a few lanterns here and there.

The odd thing was that in a server filled with people, Ghostbur had yet to encounter anyone in this very obviously man-made structure. He was tempted to call out, but there was something dark and oppressive in these walls. Something that caused shivers to creep up his non-existent spine.

Ghostbur gulped and kept moving.

A quiet, odd sound caught his attention as he rounded a corner. A sort of snuffling. Whimpering, he realised with a jolt. There wasn’t any Blue here, meaning that the sadness hung like a heavy cloud. And Ghostbur needed to fix this immediately.

“Hello?” he called out in his croaky voice. “Is anyone there?”

The crying had stopped completely, but Ghostbur kept walking, peering into each cell as he did.

He nearly missed Ranboo’s. The kid blended in with the wall so well that Ghostbur completely glossed over him until the wall begun to move and he had to stop. “Gh-Ghostbur?” Ranboo asked shakily, looking up at him from where he was curled up.

Ghostbur lit up. “Oh! There you are!” He phased through the iron bars and sat down a little way away, noticing how Ranboo flinched. “Niki’s been looking for you!”

“What?”

Ghostbur frowned a little, closing his eyes. His memory wasn’t the best, but he’d written down again and again about how he needed to help Niki find Ranboo, so that was a little clearer in his mind. “Niki! She found your house empty and she’s been wondering where you’ve been.” The kid looked down. Ghostbur noticed his lip tremble a little bit, and his brow creased in worry. “Oh dear, did I say something wrong?”

Ranboo was quick to reassure through wiping his face with the sleeves of his jacket. “N-no. I just-I just miss her is all.” His voice was thick with sadness.

Ghostbur dug around in his pocket, withdrawing some Blue. It was all he had left after a long day of handing the stuff out. “Here,” he said, offering it to Ranboo. “You look like you need it.”

Ranboo took it with quivering fingers, holding it like it was something precious (it was!). “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank y-you so much. I-just—” He let out a sob. Ghostbur felt himself grow sadder and sadder. “I just wa-want to leave. It-it hurts, is all. Crying, I mean,” he elaborated, gesturing to his face with a humourless chuckle. Ghostbur saw odd little scars scattered around his mouth.

“I-I don’t think you’ll be here forever, Ranboo,” Ghostbur said, a little nervously. He wasn’t sure how good he was at comforting people. He had been told that Alivebur was wonderful at it. “Here.” He sat up and faced Ranboo. “How about I try and visit you every day?”

Ranboo mulled it over. “You might forget,” he said sadly.

So Ghostbur pointed at the memory book lying next to the kid. “Write it down for me! I won’t forget then!”

So five minutes later, Ghostbur tucked away a piece of paper that had the words “Visit Ranboo in the big prison every day” written on it with careful handwriting.

“You promise you will?” He sounded fragile, as if Ghostbur could shatter him with only a few words.

“I promise!”

* * *

“Tommy, _please_ , stop eatin’ my gapples. There are perfectly good steaks _right there!_ ”

**tommy steal! technoangry? technobro, technobro!! pog! dadza! dadza dadza dadza! ghostbur??? E ghostbur help!**

And there went chat.

Techno could hear Phil’s sigh from the other side of the room. Tommy was upstairs and had begun to scamper down at the mention of his name. “We’re rich! What’s it matter?”

“ _I’m_ rich, idiot!”

**rich pog!! rich!! technoking! technorich!! PRISON??? EEEE technoking :D**

“Boys,” Phil said sternly, not quite able to wipe the smile off his face. “Come on now. Not over breakfast, please.”

Techno rolled his eyes but stayed quiet. Tommy leapt from the ladder onto the floor gracefully (read; he stumbled halfway across the room to regain his balance, most due to walking on his prosthetic being a new thing) and went straight for the table, giving Edward a short wave before sitting his ass down. “Fucking finally. I’m _starving._ ”

“Oh are you now? Hungry enough for half-baked potatoes?” Techno deadpanned.

Tommy made a face and looked over desperately at Phil. “Please tell me I’m ‘allucinating. Philza, Philza please, you can’t let him do this! He’s going to _kill_ me!”

“It’s what all good soldiers eat, Tommy.” Techno was _definitely_ enjoying this, a small smile gracing his features. “Lots of good stuff in them and doesn’t leave you too hungry either. I thought you were a fighter?”

**POTATOES FOR THE POTATO GOD**

Now he’d brought on an endless avalanche of ‘potatoes for the potato god’. What a wonderful way to begin a morning.

Phil served up a plate of toast and eggs for Tommy, chuckling at the pure relief that spread across his face. “Come on, Tech. Don’t go scaring the youth now.”

**Technoscare-prison!!! go to prison!!! e SCARE TOMMY!! DON’T SCARE TOMMY!! POTATOES FOR THE POTATO GOD**

What’s was this about a prison all of a sudden? With a little frown, Techno sat down, beginning to absently chew on plain toast (ignoring Tommy’s blatant disgust) as he tried to listen to his chat. They knew things he didn’t. And anything concerning a prison o any sort would be interesting to look into. And useful as well.

“Knock, knock!”

Tommy jumped half a foot into the air at the gentle voice, calming himself down and awkwardly clearing his throat as Phil stood up to let Ghostbur in, checking outside to make sure it wasn’t snowing. “Come in!” Phil called.

Ghostbur stepped inside, tracking snow everywhere which drew a wince from Techno. His real estate value would go down dramatically if those floorboards were to erode.

**ghostbur!! ghostbur! hello ghostbur!! OH NO?? E he’s from prison!!! go to prison!!!**

Again with the prison. The same one he and Tommy found? Or different?

“Hello, Phil! Oh and Tommy! Techno too!” He looked _far_ too happy for this early in the morning. “I was just popping by to say hi!”

“Good to see you, Ghostbur,” Tommy said in greeting, shifting a little uncomfortably but still regarding him with a warm smile. “Got any Blue for us?”

Ghostbur hummed, searching his pockets and coming up empty. He frowned for a moment (it looked very out of place on a normally cheerful face) before his eyes lit up with realisation and he relaxed. “Not right now!” he chirped. “I gave it all to Ranboo!”

Tommy and Techno shared a look. Neither of them had heard from Ranboo since the day of the festival. That probably wasn’t a good sign.

**RANBOO—RANBOO PROTECT, RANBOO SUPPORT—RANBOO HELP!! PROTECT RANBOO!**

Okay wow, the voices hadn’t been that loud since Tommy’s…escape.

**KILL DREAM**

There it was.

“How’s Ranboo doing these days?” Tommy asked casually.

Ghostbur hummed. “Not great, actually. He’s in prison, you see and—” The temperature seemed to drop dramatically. Everyone shared similar looks of horror as Ghostbur continued to speak, oblivious. “He said he missed everyone, so I promised I’d visit him every day, so he gave me this to remember to do that!” he finished, waving a slip of paper around.

Tommy recognised Ranboo’s handwriting. Techno asked the next question carefully. “Are you _sure_ it was a prison he was in?”

Nodding. “Oh yes! There was so much obsidian and there were iron bars and this _huge_ door that I think had redstone linked up to it, but I’m not sure because I can go _through_ it, isn’t that cool?”

“Was-was Ranboo hurt?” Tommy asked, seeming almost afraid of the answer.

Chat _exploded._

**HURT HURT VERY HURT HORRIBLE BAD _KILL DREAM_ VERY HURT WATERBOARDING WATER WATER WATER WATER WATERBOARDING BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD KILL DREAM TECHNOPROTECT PROTECTBOO _KILL DREAM_**

“Oh no,” he grumbled under his breath, beginning to pace and massage his head. “Could you guys lighten up a little?”

“He didn’t _look_ all that hurt to me. I-I’m not sure. I don’t really remember.”

“Dragon,” Phil breathed, hand over his mouth. “Since when was there a prison?”

Techno shrugged, fingers still kneading his temples. “Dunno. Tommy and I found it by total accident on our way to the festival. It was huge, Phil. Totally obsidian. We didn’t go too closer or anything, but it looked pretty impenetrable.”

**TECHNOHELP TECHNOPROTECT PROTECT RANBOO PROTECTBOO WATERBOARDING CRYING WATER WATER DREAM DID IT KILL DREAM HELP HIM**

“Dear Dragon,” Phil muttered.

Techno side-eyed him. “Phil. Can I talk with you for a moment? Tommy, go finish breakfast.”

Tommy looked suitably offended, but still had shining fear in his eyes. “Why? What’s the matter with me listening in?”

Phil and Techno exchanged looks. “We’ll tell you later. We promise,” Techno tried. “It’s just about what chat’s tell me.”

Thankfully, Tommy did trudge back over to the table and sit down solemnly. Techno and Phil went outside.

“What’s the matter, mate?” Techno stared down at the snow that covered the steps. They were both leaning forward on the porch railings.

“Chat’s tellin’ me that Ranboo’s bein’ tortured.” Phil’s expression turned horrified. “With water, no less. And—And I think Dream’s the one doin’ it.” He said the last part in a murmur. Sometimes, just a mention of the name would be enough to send Tommy spiralling.

Phil froze. “Do you think that Dream’s…?” He glanced behind meaningfully.

Techno snorted. “I bet he is. A child in an emotionally vulnerable position who needs someone to cling onto? Perfect prey.”

That drew a wince from Phil who straightened suddenly. “Well. Well I’m not about to sit around and let that happen. You in?”

**IN WE’RE IN TECHNO YOU’RE IN YOU BETTER BE IN TECHNOIN INBLADE PLEASE CHILD SUPPORT RANBOO SUPPORT TECHNOIN**

Well, chat had already promised Techno a fate worse than death if he didn’t agree. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m in. How much do we tell Tommy?”

Something haunted entered Phil’s eyes. “All of it. He deserves to know.”

Techno found himself agreeing silently as they walked back in, bracing himself for the conversation they were about to have. The inevitable tears that would come with the confession. Dragon, chat better not be wrong.

**We’re not! EEEEEEE PROTECTBOO HE’S HURT PROTECT TOMMYSUPPORT RANBOOSUPPORT**

“I’m doin’ it chat, calm down,” he muttered.

* * *

“Can you teleport, Ranboo?”

The question posed was innocent, but loaded with meaning. Dream might have been trying to gauge whether or not Ranboo would have any escape options if he’d wanted to. But Ranboo didn’t hesitate in his answer. “No.”

Dream scoffed. “Look me in the eyes and tell me.”

Ranboo hated it. Hated eye contact with his whole self. But Dream had said it would make him more…more normal. He said that being normal was going to make it better for him.

So he forced his gaze up, looking into the two black dots that were the eyes of the mask while shoving down the cold wave of jolting fear that came with the glance. “I ca-can’t teleport,” he said quietly.

But he could. At least, in short, jerky movements. It wasn’t great, but it had saved his life more than once. “Damn. So you got all the bad parts of being an enderman then, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” His heart pounded against his chest and he hoped Dream couldn’t hear it.

Ranboo didn’t think he was all that bad. Sometimes the noises were a little odd and out of place. People had grown cautious (attentive, his mind told him) of endermen. Maybe it was because of their pearls. Maybe the danger.

Often times, his noises would earn a twitch, a quick touch of the handle of a sheathed blade, a wary look thrown his way.

He missed his childhood with Niki. She didn’t look afraid when she heard him chirp or screech. She knew what each sound meant, what mood he was in and how to help him.

He missed Niki.

That made him tear up, so he blinked them away hastily. Dream hated it when he cried too much.

_(“Stop being a baby!” The screech followed by a hard slap in the face._

_“Sorry! I’m-I’m so-sorry, ple-please I’m sorry!”)_

Ranboo reckoned it’d been over a week since he’d been taken. The longest week of his whole life. He’d committed to writing down as much as he possibly could in his memory book. He couldn’t remember why he was doing it.

“H-hey Dream?” Ranboo asked.

“Hm?”

“How long’ll I be in here?”

Dream laughed. “Until you’ve confessed, you dummy!” There was something in his voice that made Ranboo think that he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

_(“Did you do it or not?” he thundered._

_Ranboo sobbed against the fire racing across his back. His spine arched as another splash of water hit it again. “No!” he screeched, distorted and desperate. “It_ hurts _, Dream it hurts, Dream please stop!” Fundy’s grip on his wrists tightened._

_“Just tell us, man!” he snapped, right into Ranboo’s face._

_“I didn’t, I didn’t, please, I did-didn’t I_ swear, _please—”_

_Something blunt hit his back, and Ranboo cried out yet again.)_

Ranboo didn’t like remembering. It made his head hurt.

Running his fingers through his hair, he pushed his gaze to the floor. “I-I told you I didn’t do it. I can’t have,” he muttered, more to himself.

“Who’s to say?”

“Me!” he snapped, a little more forceful than he’d expected. He immediately shrunk back at the sight of clenched fists. “I’m sorry for snapping.”

“Apology accepted. But Ranboo. How can you be so sure?”

“I _told_ you, I would’ve remembered this, Dream. I don’t-I don’t just _forget_ the bad things.”

“How reliable is that assumption?”

“I-I’m not sure.”

“Exactly.”

And that scared him. Terrified him. The prospect of being the person to commit an act like that wasn’t something he particularly wanted to be true. But it could be.

“Can-can you leave me alone for a little bit?” Ranboo asked hopefully, hand slipping into his jacket pocket and fidgeting with the Blue left in there. He couldn’t exactly burn it like Ghostbur had intended, but he was assured that it was alright. He could keep it for as long as he had to.

(Ghostbur had kept his promise and had visited at the same time every day. It was something he found he could look forward to. The ghost made surprisingly interesting conversation.)

Dream cocked his head at him. “What? Bored of me already?”

Frustration crept up his throat. “I just wanna be by myself.”

Dream pushed himself to his feet, stretching the hallway outside before fixing him with a pointed look. Ranboo felt a noise bubble up at the unsolicited stare and he tried to supress it, he really did, but Dream was calling his name and reaching an arm through the cell doors and the threatening snarl slipped out.

They both froze. “What was that?” Dream asked, deadly calm.

Ranboo felt his hands begin to shake as the fisted his clothes. “I-I’m sorry, wait, please it won’t happen again, I swear, I just do-don’t like eye contact, Dream please I’m sorry,” he said, all in a rush with a quavering voice.

Dream grit his teeth audibly and the sound grated in Ranboo’s ears. “Do I need to get the muzzle?”

_(Hands. Hands on him, pinned him down stomach-first into his little cell, hands that were once gentle, now sharp with fear and rage as the metal restraint was slipped over his head and fastened at the back._

_He struggled. He did! He tried to push them off with lanky limbs that were weak from the mysterious exhaustion that seemed to coat the place with its chill, weak from the starvation he’d been subjected to for what had felt like an age, weak from sleep deprivation from the various nightmares his brain subjected him to._

_“W-wait, no, no, no, please—”_

_His shriek was cut off by the metal by the metal in his mouth, on his tongue, slipped between his teeth, preventing him from talking or eating or chirping._

_The hands drew back suddenly, and Ranboo felt like he couldn’t breathe with the thing around his head, pushing at his skull. He could feel his skull crumbling under the pressure, but he couldn’t make a sound because Dream wouldn’t let him, because the metal was cold and ungiving and now coated in something wet which must’ve been his tears because his cheeks burned and his face ached, frozen in a choked scream._

_“Maybe this will teach you your lesson.”)_

Ranboo scurried back, his spine hitting the wall behind. "I don't want the mu-muzzle, please Dream, I swear I--"

He choked down a shriek as Dream opened the cell door. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to make those fucking sounds!" he roared, storming inside and grabbing Ranboo by the front of his shirt, eliciting a broken whimper. "Again and again I say it, but I just can't get it through your thick skull, huh?" His expression turned cruel. "What good is that fucking memory book doing for you, Ranboo?"

Somethings wild flared up in his chest at the mention of the book. Dream couldn't take the book because it was all he had left of his life outside this prison. Without it, he'd forget everything. So he surprised himself by grabbing Dream's hands with god own and wrenching the fingers off his shirt with a feral cry of rage. "Don't touch it!" he screeched, blood pulsing in his veins, red hot and burning.

There was a blinding white pain in his side as something blunt slammed into his brittle ribs. He felt something snap and _screamed,_ flailing his arms. His hands caught on fabric and skin, his nails cut into something soft and something warm and sticky dripped down his fingers as a hand grabbed his throat and _squeezed._

“You,” Dream panted, smashing Ranboo’s head against the wall so that his world spun and stars popped in and out of his vision, “you listen here, you fucking freak. You’re in here for betraying the country that took your ass in.” The hands squeezed harder and Ranboo gasped for breath that wouldn’t come as his own hands scrabbled at Dream’s.

“Le-et go,” he wheezed, tears squeezing themselves out of the corners of his eyes.

Pain flared up in his stomach as Dream’s boot connected with skin. The taste of blood bubbled up in his throat, spreading over his tongue and dribbling out of the corner of his mouth and onto Dream’s hand as Ranboo’s vision blackened around the edges. “What are you, Ranboo?” Dream hissed, pushing him to the floor. The hands around his neck were removed, only for something sharp to press where they had just been. Something in Ranboo told him to freeze. “Tell me what you are. Right now, fucking tell me exactly what you are.”

He was wheezing and gasping and sobbing as his lungs worked and worked to bring in more air that just wasn’t coming easily and it _hurt,_ his chest _hurt_ his neck hurt everything hurt so much and he just wanted it to end and the sword was digging in and he was going to _die_ and maybe that wouldn’t be so bad—

“ _What are you, Ranboo!”_

The scream shattered his resolve to fight back and he went limp, hands shaking as they were held, palm up, on either side of his face. His lips moved as he tried to force out the answer, but his voice failed him. The blade dug in and he inhaled sharply enough to trigger a coughing fit.

“M-monster,” he got out, breathless and hoarse and quiet.

Dream nodded in approval and finally, finally the sword was removed, and he could roll onto his side and curl up to cry into his knees. “You’re dangerous, Ranboo.” His voice was softer now. “Can you see it? You burned down the community house because you’re dangerous and you’re here because you might hurt people if you aren’t kept under supervision. This is to help everyone else. Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ranboo heard the cell door close but didn’t reach for his memory book.

Maybe he could forget tonight ever happened.

* * *

Fundy didn’t look her in the eyes anymore.

Three weeks after Ranboo’s disappearance and three weeks of tireless searching and questioning everyone she could reach, Niki realised that Fundy couldn’t bear to look at her properly when they talked, though their conversations weren’t anything to be desired. Awkward and stilted, she knew he dreaded them, but she would find answers.

She didn’t miss the fact that every time she mentioned Ranboo, his ears would twitch downwards, as if they were about to flatten against his skull. It made her uneasy. His jumpiness wasn’t anything new but Ranboo and Fundy and grown very close in their time with each other in this server, but something had changed.

Niki wasn’t about to lie. Past relations meant less than nothing to her if Fundy was the reason her little brother was missing and possibly hurt.

At least he hadn’t died yet. That was the one silver lining. He was still out there. Somewhere.

She set her eyes on the cabinet walking around New L’Manberg just before midnight, discussing something. Something private, judging by the way their eyes flickered to their surroundings, as if they were looking out for someone still out this long. Their faces were terse, she could tell even from her house.

Niki leaned against the window before drawing the blinds and grabbing a satchel. Ghostbur had mentioned something that had caught her ears once in a conversation while they were walking around aimlessly together. People who could help her if they didn’t kill her first.

(She decided, with barely any hesitance, that it was worth looking into for Ranboo’s sake.)

Into the bag went all of her healing potions, as much food as she could carry, extra clothes for herself and Ranboo if she found him and several little daggers, wrapped up carefully in cloth. A gift from Wilbur, before his exile. Before everything went to shit.

Niki shook herself out of her spiral, layering on warmer clothes before fastening a scabbard around her waist and slipping in a diamond sword into it. Her hair went back, tied in a loose braid. Finally, after pulling the strap of the bag over her shoulder, she pulled on a heavy winter cloak lined with fur over her shoulders.

She waited until the streets were quiet before sneaking out of her house, leaving a note for Puffy explaining her whereabouts and to look after Ranboo’s pets in her absence. Niki knew she’d understand.

Silently, Niki slipped away from L’Manberg, eyes on the compass as she travelled north in the dead of night, straight to a snowy tundra, in search of her answers, the blood in her boiling too hot for the snow to deter her from this mission.

Lord help the ones her rage would be unleased on when she found out what happened to her baby brother.


	2. tear me to pieces, skin and bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month has gone by and Ranboo has deteriorated quickly. But hope can come from unexpected places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yES I CHANGED THE TITLE OF THIS FIC TO BE ABLE TO ADD ANOTHER CHAPTER IN BECAUSE I UNDERESTIMATED HOW MUCH I WOULD WRITE A G A I N  
> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A O N E S H O T 
> 
> also ngl this one hurt a little bit to write *whips*

So. Phil was MIA. That was fine.

**NOT FINE NOT FINE NOT POG TECHNOWHERE PHILZA??? DADZA?? MAPMAPMAPMAP DW CHAT WHERE’S DADZA???**

At least chat was being normal.

“You seen Phil in the last—” Techno checked the clock, “eighteen hours, Tommy?” he asked, very casually, in his firm opinion and definitely not worriedly at all.

Tommy shook his head, looking downcast and a little stressed. Ever since news of Ranboo had reached them via Ghostbur two weeks prior, a depressive aura had decided to hang around the whole house, seeping into the floorboards and hiding in the walls. “I thought he was off to mine?”

“Me too.” Techno cleared his throat, not wanting to scare the kid anymore than he had to. “No matter. He probably got stuck in a village tradin’ somewhere. You know how Phil is.”

“Mhm.”

“You know. Cos he’s old and likes borin’ things.”

“Yeah.”

Okay, that was unnerving. Tommy _not_ taking the clear opportunity to make fun of Phil’s age? Positively wrong. In _every_ way.

**sadinnit sad bad change!! technobro technobro support make gremlin happy technobro sadinnit PHIL????**

“Alright.” He sat down on Tommy’s couch, just out of reach to not touch him. “You’re actin’ weird. What’s up?”

Tommy snorted but began to talk anyway. “Worried. For Ranboo.” He put his head in his hands and curled up tight on the couch. “I hate sitting here and just-just _waiting!_ ” he cried, muffled. “Can’t we go _do_ something?”

Techno sighed, dragging his hands down his face. “We don’t know the layout of the prison yet. Yeah, we’ve scouted, but that doesn’t mean anything if the inside’s a complete mystery. Believe me, Tommy. Phil and I are workin’ on it.”

“Well then work faster—”

They both flinched when the front door slammed open, Tommy pressing himself to the couch in fear and Techno jumping up with a hand on his axe, scowl on his face that immediately melted into a smile when he saw Phil walk in. “Where’ve you been?” he demanded.

Phil wore a grin, bright and wide that Techno found himself mirroring. That grin meant trouble for everyone that wasn’t within these walls. “Sorry, sorry. Heya mate,” he said, softer and directed at Tommy who was still hiding behind Techno. Shaking the snow out of his hair, Phil extracted a metal tube, the length of his forearm from within the folds of his cloak and uncapped the end. “Here’s something you’ll both like.”

Out of the tube came paper. Rolled up and covered in writing. Phil moved to the dining table to flatten it out, pride in his eyes as Techno and Tommy crowded around to get a better look.

“Is this—” Tommy began, eyes full of wonder as he traced the outline of a wall.

“The blueprints for Pandora’s Vault! Everything that Sam planned contained on one, rather large, piece of paper.”

**PRISON PRISON PRISON DADZAPOG POGCHAMP BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD PANDORA’S VAULT?? RANBOOSUPPORT RANBOO HELP HELP HIM TOMMYSUPPORT**

“How did you even get this?”

Phil shrugged. “Apparently, Sam doesn’t appreciate his creation being used like this. He’s still got rights to the building, so he gave this to me in exchange for some emeralds and protection against the inevitable shitshow. Easiest trade of my life.”

Tommy laughed, a bright, harsh sound that filled Techno’s heart and stole chat’s attention immediately. “We’re gonna go fuck up this bitch!” he crowed, hopping around on his good leg in some weird imitation of a dance. “We’re gonna go and kick Dream’s arse is what we’re gonna do!”

**BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD HAPPYINNIT KILL DREAM PROTECTBOO PROTECTBOO TOMMY SUPPORT BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD POGGERS**

“Chat agrees with you, at least.”

“Hell yeah chat agrees with me! Why wouldn’t they agree with me?”

“Because usually the only thing out of your mouth is absolutely incomprehensible garbage.”

“Boys!” Phil said sternly.

Tommy rounded on him, playfully furious. “Got a problem old man? I’ll—”

Phil looked serious. Tommy cut himself off as he raised a hand. “Shh. Listen.”

And Techno heard it soon after. Footsteps winding up the front porch, climbing the stairs as quietly as possibly. The blueprints had disappeared from the table in the next half-second. Tommy was shoved behind Phil, his wings creating a barrier between him and the enemy behind the wood. A knock sounded on the door. Gentle.

Techno crept forward, hand on his axe as the door opened slowly.

Eyes, blue and cold with hatred and fury, locked onto his own, though he had to look down on the figure that stood before him, covered in a thick cloak and dusted heavily in snow.

“Niki?” Phil asked from inside.

She grit her teeth, tossing off her hood. Hair blew in her face. “Where is my brother?” she seethed.

* * *

_He was small. Small and scrawny and he remembered being hungry constantly. He remembered the hunger well. The terror that came with it, the wilder instincts that scared people away._

_Half and half. That’s what they called him as they kicked him away. He’d left the village he’d lived in for his whole life, a good five years, after he was nearly drowned in the well by the older boys. (Ranboo hadn’t known a lot back in those days, but he knew water hurt no matter what.)_

_Ranboo had ventured off into the woods, surviving off the berries and fruits he found. He wasn’t sure for how long though. But for days and days, he’d wandered through that forest, through its safe arms, because mobs were a little afraid of him and couldn’t scale trees very well, until he arrived at the edge and set his sights on another village. This one was bigger than the first, buzzing with life and people._

_He'd blended in well with the tree line, watching the kids from the village while chewing on an apple core. Eventually, he had to go back into the comfort of the trees, climbing up one and roosting in the crook of a branch. He wished sometimes, looking up at the stars. Wished he could go into the warmth and safety. Wished everyone wasn’t scared of him. Wished they’d understand._

_One did, though._

_A girl skipped into the forest one day, and picked the blood-red berries from the tangle of bushes that surrounded a small lake. She hummed as she worked, and the tune was lovely enough to draw Ranboo from the shadows._

_He’d never forget how she’d regarded him that day. Full of caution and a little bit of fear but warm all the same as she offered him a handful from her precious harvest._

_“I’m Niki,” she whispered in those lilting tones, nothing like the loudness of the boys from the first village. “Do you have a name?”_

_“Ranboo,” he mumbled through the berry juice in his mouth. He had to be careful to not let it run down his chin. Niki had nodded thoughtfully with a smile._

_“Do you have anywhere to stay, Ranboo?” He’d shaken his head and she brightened. “Would you like to be my little brother, then?”_

_Ranboo took all of two seconds to consider that. Brother. That was something he’d never been. He’d never had a sister or a friend or a mother as far as he could remember (which wasn’t a lot). “Can you be my friend as well?” he asked carefully, tensing in case she attacked him. (He didn’t remember why the boys hurt him in the village. Old habits die hard.)_

_But Niki, to his absolute astonishment, nodded once and held out a hand very seriously. “Of course. We can be friends_ and _family.”_

_Family. There was another new word he’d never had the privilege of using. It felt nice on his tongue._

_So Ranboo took the hand and Niki had whisked him away to the best years of his young life, surrounded by warmth and love and happiness. Niki, his friend, his sister, his family._

* * *

Ranboo didn’t like remembering. It made his heart heavy.

There was a lump in his throat, he realised, lying on his side in the cell. At some point in the last few weeks, his suit had been taken away to be replaced with a faded blue shirt and sweatpants. He hated how they felt on his skin. Hated how one of the last things that was truly _his_ in this place had just been ripped away.

Dream had found a blue handkerchief Ghostbur had given him to help with his tears tucked away in one of the pockets. That hadn’t gone well.

_(“What’s this?”_

_Dream’s voice was deadly calm as he held up the innocent blue cloth. Ranboo felt his heart stutter for a second, felt his breathing stop and then restart. His mouth went dry. “I-it-I didn’t—” he stammered, already trembling under the mask._

_“I told you the only thing you were supposed to take with you was the book.” Dream spoke through clenched teeth, nothing but rage in his words. Ranboo tried to make himself smaller. He’d already slipped Ghostbur’s blue into the pocket of his pants without anyone noticing. How did he forget the handkerchief?_

_Dream didn’t know that Ghostbur had given him that little gift. Dream thought Ranboo had snuck it in. Ranboo had been lying since he’d been imprisoned. What was one more little lie?_

_“I-I’m s-sorry, Dr-Dream. I won’t-won’t do it again, I swear I—"_

_He deserved this far more than Ghostbur did, he thought as the fist slammed into his cheek.)_

He reached with trembling fingers for his memory book, flipping open to a new page. He didn’t want to read anything on the other pages.

_Remembered meeting Niki today. Miss her. Hope she’s okay._

_Dream said he’s going to show today. ~~I don’t want him to~~ I can’t wait to see him._

The tremor in his hands that was now ever-present made his handwriting awful now. He could barely read his own thoughts at that point.

Sighing to himself, Ranboo shut his eyes and leaned against the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging them tight with scarred, skinny arms.

_(“Dre-Dream. I’m-I mean I just-I’ve been really hungry lately,” Ranboo mumbled, forcing himself to meet the soulless eyes of the mask. Dream liked eye contact. That was written in his book, underlined three times._

_Dream clicked his tongue patronisingly. “Your kind doesn’t need too much food to survive. I’ve been feeding you the perfect amount to keep you alive.”_

_He should be used to this. Dream was right in what he was saying, but that didn’t make Ranboo’s hunger pangs go away. “I-I know but—”_

_“Come on now, Ranboo.” He sounded disappointed, and Ranboo immediately froze up. “Don’t do this right now. Who’s the one in charge of keeping you alive?”_

_“You.”_

_“And have I let you die even_ once? _”_

_“No.”_

_“So zip it.”_

_And Ranboo did, because Dream was right about that no matter how much the little voice in his head protested against it.)_

It was funny how much fear hearing Dream’s footfalls up the corridor instilled in him. It was an instinctual reaction to flinch away, to squeeze his eyes shut and calm his frantic heart. He hated it, because Dream was genuinely nice sometimes. But his body didn’t think so.

(Maybe he should trust it more.)

“Hello Ranboo. Ready for today?”

It was a trick question. Ranboo could never be ready for interrogation days no matter how much he tried to prepare. So he shrugged in answer, staggering to his feet and stooping in his cell dizzily.

It worried him a little bit how much he had to lean against Dream to be able to properly walk. He felt so weak all the time and it scared him almost as much as Dream did. Or Fundy even.

Fundy, tying down his wrists as a water bucket was placed down near him, Fundy who sat and watched, Fundy who never laughed but never tried to stop it, Fundy who was cruel, Fundy who had hurt him, Fundy who he had hurt, Fundy who hated him so much despite the hours they’d spent together, Fundy, Fundy, Fundy—

There were tears in his eyes that he blinked away, a sob caught in his throat that he coughed out because he couldn’t afford to break down before it happened.

Down the winding corridors that Ranboo still hadn’t memorised no matter now many times he’d been down here in the room of nightmares (he couldn’t remember how many times, he didn’t want to remember but he did remember parts of it and he wished he didn’t remember, wished his mind wasn’t like this because he hated it as much as he hated the noises he made, hated the way he was hurt for being born, hated the water with a passion, hated the fear in Fundy’s eyes when he screeched too loud and it came out distorted even if he didn’t mean to and he hated the pain that followed most of all).

The iron door was still there, unmoving. Fundy and Quackity were already setting things up. Tubbo never showed. Ranboo couldn’t help but feel grateful for that. But even with that small consolation, his knees still went weak, still hit the ground at the thought of the pain that was about to follow, and he _knew_ that begging wouldn’t work even though Quackity seemed to like it but it didn’t matter anyway but he didn’t want to hurt—

Someone was already binding his wrists to each other tightly, only aggravating the raw skin that never seemed to heal and probably never would. He had started hyperventilating and he wasn’t sure exactly when it started. “Take deep breaths, Ranboo,” Fundy tried, soothing but he knew Fundy didn’t care.

But he tried. He still tried. “I-I don’t wa-wanna, p-please Fun-Fundy it _hurts,_ please I c-can’t,” he choked out. Fundy’s face twisted but he turned away.

“Stop making this hard on me,” he muttered.

“I’ll d-die! I’ll _die,_ pl-please I don’t wa-wanna die, _please_!” he shrieked.

“Is he giving you trouble there, Fundy?” Quackity was watching, murder in his eyes.

Fundy shook his head, gripping Ranboo’s forearms. “You won’t die,” he said firmly, and he was _lying,_ Ranboo knew it. “Is-is there anything else?” he asked carefully.

Something in his chest _broke._ “I-I miss Ni-Niki,” Ranboo sobbed through the agony in his heart, head dropping down so that his chin met his chest. “I wa-want Niki, I ju-just wanna s-see her _once!_ ”

“Come on,” Dream snapped, grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him away. He couldn’t see Fundy’s expression through the tears. “Stop being dramatic. And you _know_ what I said about the fucking crying.”

He was abruptly thrown against the wall, his head smacking into it, making him groan. “S-sorry, I’m sorry.”

He heard the splash of water and froze up, huddling against the wall and trying to make himself as small as possible. Gangly arms locked around a skinny torso and hugged tight in some imitation of comfort.

Why was he here?

The community house.

Did he blow it up?

He wasn’t sure anymore. Memories slipped through his fingers like sand, falling into an abyss to never be seen again no matter how hard he tried to fish them back up. But he couldn’t have blown up the community house.

Then again, what was stopping him?

He wasn’t aware of his surroundings until the water, just a bit, hit him straight in the face.

It burned. Burned and boiled him alive and he wasn’t sure how he knew but this water was different because it was boiling and he was dying all over again and screaming and Quackity was saying terrible terrible things and he wanted to die he wanted to _die—_

“Did you do it?”

_He didn’t, surely he would but how could he be so sure but he wouldn’t do that because-because—_

What was this new memory? Burning, he was burning again but it wasn’t like this because his skin wasn’t decaying, wasn’t wasting away and he was smiling, why was he smiling, he was burning and there was dirt on his clothes and he really liked that shirt—

“Ranboo! Did you do this?”

He didn’t! He didn’t!

But you did. Look at the memory.

I didn’t do it!

Stop _lying_ to yourself! (More water on his skin, he wanted to crawl out of his body and shrivel up in the sun, to dry out and never feel anything again.)

I’m not lying! I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying I’m not lying—

Burning on his skin, heat of flames as a wooden structure went up before him, white mask, smiley face, soot on his favourite dress shirt, on his hands that smelt like gunpowder, the spark of flint and steel and he knew, he knew, he was lying, he was lying, he was a filthy little freak and a liar and he could only hear Dream’s voice in his head and it hurt, please stop, _Dream please stop!_

The skin on his neck was blistering, his left cheek already beginning to decay underneath the burning water and it hurt and he was dying and he hated it so much, hated himself, hated the room, hated the prison, hated the new, searing memory of fire and he just wanted it to **_stop!_**

 **“** _I did it!”_ he screamed, hands clutching at his hair and tugging fiercely, arms over his face in one last ditch attempt to protect himself. The room went silent and Ranboo could see it now. The flint and steel, the TNT, the explosions that lit up that night, the soot on his dress shirt (the one he’d burnt later), the taste of soot, the smell of burning wood surrounding him. “I blew it up!” he cried, tears slipping through his fingers as he shook and quivered in anticipation for the next attack.

“Well.” Dream’s voice had a smile in it. Quackity chuckled. “Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it Ranboo?”

He shook his head minutely feeling the footsteps approach. His hands were wrenched away from his face and a potion of healing was dumped unceremoniously over his skin. His eyes shut against the cool liquid tracing its slow way down his face. “I’ll go tell the president,” Quackity announced.

Fundy had said nothing. He didn’t want to look at Fundy. “No need, actually,” Dream cut in, producing a small scroll of paper from his pant pocket. “Tubbo already had the signed warrant.” He turned to Ranboo. “Look at me.” Ranboo cracked an eye open to stare at the man above him. “You are to be executed in three days by water. Because this is your first life, you will be spending the remainder of your days here in this prison. Signed, President Tubbo.”

Ranboo knew this would happen. Knew it, and it still hurt. Hurt so much. His throat had closed up completely as he slumped over, a long, breathless wail escaping his body as the anguish made itself known, the scream ripping through his chest and his throat and he couldn’t _breathe_ as every muscle in his body went lax either from relief or deep, wounding grief. Tubbo had—

“Hey, Ranboo?” Fundy’s voice, sounding close. He didn’t dare hope that it might be reprieve, might be one last, small act of mercy.

Ranboo’s lip trembled. “Pl-please,” he whispered, hoarse and small because he wasn’t proud enough to not beg for mercy.

“Well, uh, you can request for an audience to be there at your execution. To make the process easier on you, you know?”

No. No he didn’t know. He did consider, just for a single, selfish second to ask for Niki to be there for those last moments, if only to get the chance to see her one final time, even if she hated him. But he couldn’t let her see that. He couldn’t let her see him kick and struggle and scream in the water. It wouldn’t be a quick death.

That scared him most of all. The pain.

So Ranboo shook his head jerkily and let Dream hoist him up onto unsteady feet to drag away, into the hallway.

“We’ll be preparing for the execution, kid!” Quackity called after them. “And maybe Tubbo might end up showing! Who knows?”

Ranboo half hoped he would, if only to have some semblance of an old friend there.

* * *

_But, you see, dear reader, the walls had ears and eyes and traitorous tongues that slipped dangerous words and even deadlier silences. Because a ghost had been wandering those halls, had followed the masked one and the child to the room of nightmares, had watched within the walls, had witnessed those horrors with his own, dead, dead eyes._

_But, caught up in their own hubris, their own triumph, the dungeon keepers did not notice this faint wisp of a spirit. Did not notice the blue tears that slipped down his face as he wept for the boy on death’s door. As he wept for the agony contained within those evil, evil obsidian walls._

_A place of misery, of lost innocence._

_A place suited to burn down._

_The ghost had run, far away with those events playing in his fragile mind, had rushed into the cursed country, and stolen a pen and a piece of paper to write down the things he’d just seen. Then, he folded it up and tucked it into his yellow jumper, eyes set northwards._

_Carrying with him, the last inkling of hope for a child lost to this game of chess played by gods, the ghost set on his way._

* * *

Techno glanced over at Niki, sat on the other end of the dining table and drinking from a mug of tea with a faraway look in her eye. Tommy sat next to her, absently tracing patterns in the knots of the wood on the table.

He pored over the blueprints, occasionally making remarks for Phil to dutifully note down.

“Elder Guardians are stored underneath the structure,” Techno murmured. “Why would they do that?”

“Mining fatigue,” Phil had answered without even looking up. “That, coupled with the fifteen block deep obsidian walls means that the best pickaxe would take weeks of mining to be able to get through completely.”

“Makes sense.”

**DADZA POG SMARTZA ghostbur?? where?? prison isn’t poggers, not pogchamp, ghostbur???? NIKI YES BIG SIS NIKI NIKI SUPPORT**

Niki said nothing, nodding along to their quiet chatter. “How about the portal entrance? Can you see any way to get past that?”

“Not yet.” Techno looked up at the woman at his table, something haunted in her eyes. “Can Ranboo teleport?” he asked gruffly.

She blinked a few times before nodding. “Yes. He’s not the best at it but it’s good enough.”

Phil side-eyed Techno. “So what’s stopping Ranboo from teleporting out?” he mumbled.

**WALLS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD BAD WATER EXECUTION???? BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD GHSOTBUR**

Niki drained the rest of her mug all at once and still steaming hot. “He can only do it a few blocks at a time at most. Not like full endermen,” she stated, nodding at Edward. “And I think there are some things that can stop him from teleporting well. Hunger, weakness, the likes.” Her expression was bitter. “Dragon knows what they’re doing to him in that place.”

Phil nodded along. “Right. So we can rule out him teleporting out by himself. Is there really any way we can get in without alerting some kind of alarm?”

Techno hummed dissent. “Nothin’. Sensors everywhere. And the Nether portal thing is hard to get through without properly knowin’ what you’re doin’. You could end up in a lava lake if you’re not careful.”

“What about Ghostbur?” Tommy asked, lifting his head up to stare at them. Techno mentally face-palmed. “He seemed to get through alright. He even talked to Ranboo plenty of times.”

**ghostbur!! pog pog pog!!! poggers pogchamp drEAM KILL?? festival 2??? ghostubur!!!**

“But Ghostbur doesn’t have a physical body. We can’t rely on him to get Ranboo out.”

But when Techno looked over at Phil for support, he found nothing but a manic glint in his eyes. “No. No you’re right Techno, but Ghostbur is useful for something. He can smuggle things in.” Oh no. _Oh no._ Technoblade might be the Blood God, warrior, terror of orphans, but Phil was a whole different breed. Phil was straight up insane.

“What are you thinkin’?” Techno asked nervously.

Phil’s eyes met Niki’s who stared back resolutely. Something sparked there as well. “Has Ranboo ever tried to teleport while on a strength potion?”

Oh no.

Niki hummed for a second. “Once, from what I remember. It was in a tournament and he’d been backed into a corner by a group. So he chugged one and got away.”

“Did it work?”

Niki stood up, her cloak fluttering with the sudden movement. “Better than usual,” and her voice was hard as steel and determined. Both of them had that same glint in their eyes and Techno knew that it was going ahead.

**PLANZA NIKIPOG BIG SIS NIKI TELEPORT POG**

“Guys,” he tried, stepping in. “Guys think about it. This whole plan hinges on Ranboo being well enough to teleport out of that place. C’mon, there’s probably a better way.”

But Techno knew that there really wasn’t. Not unless he and Phil wanted to fight off whatever guards Dream had hired. Besides. The decision was already made. Unfortunately.

“I’ll get brewing,” Phil said tersely. “Tommy, you’re with me. Let’s brew the strongest motherfucking strength potion this Dragon-forsaken server has _ever_ seen.”

Tommy grinned, wide and bright. “Fuck yeah, Dadza!” he crowed, standing up and hobbling over as fast as his legs could carry him. “Let’s go fuck up this bitch!”

Chat was still chanting murder in Techno’s head. That was concerning. More than concerning, actually. They weren’t satisfied, and the cacophony of sound grew louder and louder, to the point of Techno being on the verge of a splitting headache before—

The door burst open. Phil and Niki had already gotten their swords out and ready, Tommy pushed behind.

But it wasn’t Dream or Quackity who walked it. Rather one, tearful ghost with blue stains on his greyish cheeks and raw panic in his eyes. Slowly, the swords were lowered.

“Ghostbur?” Niki asked gently. “Is there anything wrong?”

Something was very wrong.

“ _Endermen!_ ” he cried, more blue tears slipping down his face. “Do they hurt in water?” When no one responded, his voice got louder and cracked in desperation, making Tommy flinch. _“Do they hurt in water?”_ he near screamed, full of visceral grief.

“Yes!” Phil yelled, closing the door to block out the howling winds from the tundra. “Mate, what happened?” His voice was softer now.

Ghostbur did not calm, instead crumpling to his knees and sobbing into his hands. “Oh-Oh Dragon, Tech-Techno I’m _sorry_ , I ju-just saw Ranboo!”

There was fear in Niki’s eyes as she flipped open her communicator and read through the messages, furrowing her brows. “What happened?” Tommy asked, sounding small. He was the only one who tried to approach the absolutely devasted spirit and kneel beside him in a comforting manner as he cried.

“They were _hurting_ him Tommy! Dream was-Dream was splashing him and-and they said they—” Here, Ghostbur pulled out a slip of paper and passed it to Tommy who read it. Tommy’s face dropped and he visibly swallowed.

“Tommy, what does it say?” No response. “What does it say, Tommy?”

“They-” Tommy’s eyes were blown wide as he read the slip over and over again. “Tubbo signed an execution form for Ranboo. In three days,” he whispered.

**EXECUTION EXECUTION SAVE RANBOO SAVE HIM SAVE RANBOO RANBOOSUPPORT HELP HIM NOW HELP HIM DREAM KILL DREAM KILL DREAM KILL DREAM BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD RANBOOSUPPORT BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD**

Techno winced but tried to pay attention.

Niki joined them on the floor, knees slamming into the wood with a _thunk._ “He _wouldn’t!_ ” she muttered, almost to herself. “Not after- _he wouldn’t!”_

“Oh, he would.” Everyone turned to Phil. His eyes were grim. “He’s not been the same since Tommy’s exile. This is just his breaking point. Quackity and Fundy, they—”

Niki didn’t let him finish as she turned back to a still-weeping Ghostbur. “Was Fundy there?” she demanded. “Tell me!”

Ghostbur nodded through the tears, now staining his jumper as he wiped them away. “He watched. He-he asked if Ranboo wanted anyone there when they-when they—”

There were tears in Niki’s eyes too. Angry ones. Tears that burned hot with molten fury. Niki looked ready to tear the world apart, fists clenched, eyes wild, jaw set. “Bastard,” she spat in contempt. “Fucking _bastard_. How _dare_ he,” she hissed.

**FUCK FUNDY FUCK HIM FUCK THAT FUCK FUNDY BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD FUCK THIS BLOOD FROM THE FURRY BABY**

“Well.” Techno glanced around at the room, silent save Ghostbur’s sobbing. “Well, I think we can all agree that we need to haul ass. We’ve, what, two days? C’mon. Off the floor, you three. I’m givin’ each of you a job. Tommy, you know yours. Ghostbur, go with Phil. Niki, I need you to teach me what to do when your brother burns himself on water and I need some more healing potions made. C’mon. Up.”

“What are you doing?” Phil asked.

“I’m haulin’ ass. We have no time. Let’s go actually start workin’. Tomorrow, I’ll go scoutin’, and the day after can be go-day.”

Niki’s lips set in a determined scowl. “Right. You’re right. We’re doing this.”

“You’re damn right we are. Hey Phil, how well does the stasis pearl thing work?”

Phil grinned, wolfish. “Oh, I never thought you’d ask.”

**BIG BROTHER TECHNO TECHNOBRO POG POGGERS PLAN TIME PPLAN TIME PRISON RESCUE RESCUE POG**

* * *

Sapnap wasn’t sure when he stopped knowing the man behind the mask.

There were many iterations of Dream. As a child, carefree and mask-less in those days, under the sun and playing without a single care in the world. That was before he learned how to wield an axe. Climbing trees, attempting to fish, chasing each other around the excavated jungle temples.

Then there was the Dream that was a teenager. The Dream that could fight pretty well already and held monthly manhunts. The one that made lewd jokes and laughed like a tea kettle, to the point where everyone listening would grow worried for his lungs. The Dream that would ruffle Sapnap’s hair as he steadily grew like a beanstalk and would rub his back after a nightmare. The Dream who’d met George and had instantly fallen in love, forcing him to tag along no matter what.

What a trio they were.

Now, there was this stranger. The stranger who’d led him into this formidable obsidian structure with a promise of a surprise that Sapnap wasn’t even sure he wanted at this point. The place stunk of human misery, and Sapnap was a seasoned enough warrior to know the faint stench of blood from a mile away.

“What _is_ this place, Dream?” he asked nervously, suddenly extremely glad he didn’t drag Karl along. “What do you want to show me?”

Dream laughed. It wasn’t his tea kettle one. It hadn’t been his tea kettle one for months. This one was raspy and low and dark and everything Dream wasn’t. Everything _his_ Dream wasn’t. “Something good. Trust me.”

The inherent problem with that was that Sapnap couldn’t trust him anymore. Not after everything. Not after the discs. Not after Tommy’s exile which he’d heard many things about.

When they turned a corner and heard snuffling, Sapnap’s heart sank to the pits of his stomach. Dream growled and the pathetic little sound stopped. “Dream!” he hissed, not moving further. “The fuck was that?”

“You’ll see! Come on,” he insisted, now physically dragging Sapnap along with him. They stopped in front of a cell. The air left his lungs as he stared at the pitiful sight before him. “I found the bastard who blew up the community house!” Sapnap could’ve thrown up at the _pride_ in his voice.

For a moment, his voice failed him. The kid looked so utterly beaten down, bruised and sickly and so, so painfully _thin_ , that it brought him physical nausea. Sapnap couldn’t dismiss the blotchy burn scars that littered his two-toned face and arms and those hollow eyes that would haunt his dreams. Gods, what had Dream been doing?

“R-Ranboo?” Sapnap whispered, hoping he’d gotten the name right because they’d rarely spoken to each other and this was _not_ how he wanted any interaction with this kid (Kid! He was a child! A fucking kid!) to go.

He just flinched away, curling up against the wall in the tiny, tiny cell. “Come on,” Dream snapped. “At least say hi.”

Ranboo straightened in one jerky movement, desperation fuelling his actions and Sapnap felt nothing but sick as he locked pleading eyes with his own (why was he looking him in the eyes, endermen didn’t _do_ that) and muttered out a shaky, “H-Hi. Nice t-to meet you.”

Sapnap wanted to turn to Dream and just-just _scream_ at him for the suffering he’d put this child through. Wanted to rage and roar to the skies, wanted to take the kid far away from this gods-forsaken place.

But he didn’t. Instead, he smiled as reassuringly as he could and nodded. “Yeah. Nice to meet you properly too, bud.”

Dream slung an arm over his shoulder. It felt alien and Sapnap wanted it _off._ “Ranboo has a _very_ important event coming up. It’s the day after tomorrow.” He cocked his head to the side in a playful manner. “Can you tell me what it is, Ranboo?”

Sapnap couldn’t miss the tears that rolled down his cheeks (cheeks that had prominent burn scars which reminded him of the burn scars on his arms and _oh gods, Dream had—)_. “M-my exec-execution,” Ranboo said quietly, his hands futilely wiping at his face furiously.

The world screeched to a halt. Sapnap wasn’t sure of his actions, but Dream’s arm was then in his grip and being twisted roughly as he was slammed into a wall. “What did he just say?” Sapnap snarled.

Dream wasn’t fazed. “Execution. A good punishment for a traitor. Don’t worry. It’s not his last life, or anything.”

“Don’t-don’t fucking worry? Dream! Are you _insane_?” He gestured wildly to Ranboo, staring at them with bug-eyes. “He’s a _kid!_ If this is about fucking George’s house I’ll—”

“Yeah, this is about George’s house, actually! And the community house!” Dream pushed Sapnap off, making him stumble over his feet. “Ever since this freak joined _my_ server, he’s caused _nothing_ but trouble!”

Sapnap’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What do you _mean_ ‘freak’?”

Snorting, he nodded over at the boy. “Look at him. Shouldn’t even exist, honestly. I’m doing the SMP a favour.”

“ _What,”_ he gritted out, “do you mean, Dream?”

“Take a good look at that thing, and tell me it’s natural.”

Oh gods, Sapnap was actually going to vomit here. He was going to vomit or punch something and he sincerely hoped it was the latter so he could crack the stupid mask and see the expression underneath. “Endermen are natural, Dream!”

“But he isn’t.”

“So? He’s alive and he deserves to be treated like a person!”

“But he isn’t! He’s a _monster!_ I’m doing everyone a service here.”

“I—” Sapnap took a few steps back, toward the cage and away from his former best friend. “And you’re—You’re just gonna send this kid to his death? You’re gonna torture him like that?” His chest hurt. He didn’t even have a _bed._ “And you-you don’t feel _anything_ because he’s not even human to you?” Sapnap’s voice cracked. “What would George say if he knew this?”

“George would come to the execution because he’d be glad that the shitbag who destroyed his house got their just desserts.”

There was quiet for a few, long minutes. “What about Bad?” Sapnap asked quietly.

“Huh?”

“Bad. The demon. Why is he different to Ranboo? Neither of them are pure mob. But you’re only buddy-buddy with one of them.”

Dream went quiet as he thought up a response. “Because Bad wouldn’t do this to us. He wouldn’t tear us apart like this.” His tone turned sad. “Look at us, Sapnap. He’s pushing us away from each other.”

And Sapnap couldn’t’ stand to breathe this air anymore, couldn’t stand to be in the same corridor as this man he thought he once knew, couldn’t stand scent of blood and the mining fatigue that weighed heavy on his bones, couldn’t stand the obsidian encasing them like a tomb he knew this hell was supposed to be.

“Take me home,” and his voice was choked and soft. “Just-I want to leave.”

“Okay,” came the simple reply.

And Sapnap didn’t recognise his voice at all.

* * *

_He remembered flour on her nose. The tinkle of her laugh. The way her eyes scrunched up and how she turned red as the chuckles became desperate wheezes for breath._

_He remembered flowery jumpers and shirts, tops with the shoulders exposed, in all kinds of colours. Skirts and shorts, pants in the wintertime when they’d sip on hot chocolate together by the fireplace in their little cottage on the edge of the village. He’d neglect his suit those days, favouring a grey hoodie instead._

_There was a farm out in the backyard, where they grew little harvests of wheat and potatoes and sometimes watermelons. Niki liked to bake, so they went to the nearby jungle many times to get cocoa beans until Ranboo figured out how to grow them right at home._

_They could trade in the market. The villagers never minded Ranboo much. Never thought twice of him. Some even waved hello, but mostly he kept his head down at their stall, helping where needed._

_Everyone loved her though. She was pretty, she was sweet, she could talk to people, she made_ really _good cake._

_It confused him sometimes, why someone like her would call someone like him a sibling, when so many people were always wary of him. She, who’d always wake him up with a gentle smile and sing him through his bouts of panic and night terrors and never raised her voice or became truly angry with him._

_The song she gifted to him. Her lullaby._

* * *

You never deserved her.

_I know._

A monster is what you are.

_I know._

* * *

Tomorrow was his execution and Ranboo knew this only because Dream had visited in the morning to tell him so, very gleefully to boot.

He didn’t think he was afraid, but then again, fear constantly buzzed in the background for him, white noise at this point, and it only ever jumped out with its monstrous teeth and claws when he was faced with the terror head on.

Who was to say Ranboo wouldn’t be a quivering, crying mess on the execution podium? Not himself, that was for certain.

More than anything, he just wanted to be held in this moment, this moment of complete peace before tomorrow. He wanted to be warm just one more time, warm without burning, warm without hurting because he was so tired of it, and so tired of all the pain that his existence was causing. So tired of the memories that plagued him, worse than any nightmare he’d ever gotten.

He wanted a friend. Tommy (he got Tommy exiled), or Tubbo (Tubbo wanted him dead), or Phil (Phil couldn’t care less), or Niki (she hates dirty little traitors).

Loosing a shuddering breath, Ranboo refused to cry in this moment. He was alone. Alone for the rest of his life after this execution if he was lucky enough to get everyone to leave him be.

(Truthfully, he wasn’t sure which was worse: the water or the loneliness.)

No, he couldn’t think about that without breaking down completely.

(Isn’t that what Dream wants? For him to go insane in this place? For him to shatter and never come together again?)

Ranboo leaned his head against the wall, finding some diluted sense of comfort in the smooth, cool surface against his skin.

And slowly, carefully, he reached down for his memory book and flipped to the very back, where the leather that made up the cover stretched over onto the other side to be glued on properly. He peeled it away and took out a small slip of paper to unfold it with trembling fingers, eyes glossing over as he read the words that weren’t written by him.

And softly, he began to sing.

_“Possum, po-possum, with stars in your eyes,  
Look up to the diamond sky.  
Can you find what I’ve written in that bl-blue?  
I’ve written there that I love you._

_And maybe in this garden, playing with the stars,  
We’ll find a paradise together, a pla-place that’s j-just for us,  
We’ll soar up high, higher than the bir-birds,  
My dar-darling, our wings will be made entirely of our words._

_We have our prom-promises to keep,  
As you shut your eyes to sleep,  
Because the night is young and so are we,  
And you and I are all we need to be set free.”_

The slip of paper, tiny, inconsequential, priceless, fluttered out of Ranboo’s grasp as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come, tears streaming down his face in their usual burning path.

Her lullaby. His lullaby. Their lullaby. Their childhood. Their cottage, their farm, their stall in the market, their mugs for hot chocolate, their armchairs, their fireplace, their ugly placemats, their kitchen table, their oven, their cookies and cakes and pastries, their memories that Ranboo knew he could never forget (he already had) because without them, he would be _nothing._

“I-I’m sorry,” he choked out, doubled over with his arms encircling his waist, the agony in his chest almost too much to bear. “I didn’t-didn’t me-mean to!”

He couldn’t remember what she sounded like when she sung it. He couldn’t remember. All he heard was his own voice, scratchy and hoarse from screaming, barely able to force the words out through tears that wouldn’t stop coming.

“Ranboo.”

The whisper was enough to jolt him upright, hissing as his muscles protested fiercely. He locked eyes with Ghostbur, standing outside his cell and couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed. “Hey. Sorry about the sing—”

“Ranboo!” The hiss was urgent now as the spirit entered the cell and rummaged around his pocket. He took out three vials, filled with dark purple liquid and held them out. “Drink one of these!”

“Wh-what is it?” Ranboo didn’t know how much he could trust Ghostbur, honestly, but his interactions with him have been positive. Right?

“Um. They-hang on they’re uh—Strength! You have to be quick. They only last for a minute and a half each.”

Ranboo scrubbed his eyes, half convinced he was dreaming. “Why do I need them?”

Ghostbur playfully rolled his eyes. “To teleport, silly!”

Teleport. Oh. Oh, this was an escape attempt. He was going to be—

Ranboo was going to be _free._

Stay here. He should stay here if Dream comes back, because Dream would be so angry if he tried to escape. It would get worse. He’d die more than once. He’d die for real ~~would that be such a bad thing?~~

“Wh-what if Dream—”

“Dream’s not here! Technoblade made sure of it!”

Ranboo was Ranboozled. _Technoblade?_ The feared Blood God? Was here to help a random enderman out of a stupid predicament? “Why is—”

“Drink it!” Ghostbur was practically buzzing with nerves. “Or someone’ll come!”

Ranboo thought about it for a split second before scrambling to his feet after grabbing the lullaby and his book but leaving the pen. If he got caught…

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

He grabbed all three vials and uncorked one, letting the others clink around in his pant pocket. Ranboo nearly choked as he down it all in one gulp, sputtering because it burned in a way he could only describe as ‘vaguely nice’.

And then he felt it.

The heavy blanket of exhaustion that had been suffocating him for so long was finally lifted and he felt lighter than he had in weeks, something new buzzing in his veins and just underneath his skin and everything was going so much faster and there were little purple particles swirling around him and oh crap he was supposed to teleport and how was he already down the hall?

Ghostbur hurried to catch up, cheering a little monotonously and was he always that slow what was going on it didn’t matter he was free he was out he could do anything and he was zipping around trying to find where he came from if only he could just remember he had to remember he needed to remember and he had lost Ghostbur when did that happen but it didn’t matter because he needed to remember and then he heard a voice but that wasn’t Ghostbur but he was so close and he could feel it—

“Going somewhere?” Punz asked, casually unsheathing his sword. Ranboo didn’t hesitate in taking out another vial and coughing it down as he flickered out of existence just as the sword swung down.

Now they were playing cat and mouse.

Ranboo zipped through the hallways at speeds he didn’t know he could go at, with Punz struggling to give chase behind and he was winning! He was winning and he was smiling so wide his lips hurt because he hadn’t smiled in ages.

And then he found it. The portal. He couldn’t remember the mechanics of the portal trap but he knew that it was only really a few blocks to jump through technically. Ranboo was running off a high he wouldn’t come down from for another twenty-three seconds and with only one vial left and Punz close on his heels, his options were severely limited.

So when Ranboo popped out of existence and found searing heat on his skin instead of a creeping chill he celebrated. But then he popped out _again,_ and he was staring at the portal again. And behind him—

Grass. Trees. A lake. The sun. The _sun_!

Nimble fingers uncorked the final vial and he downed it without even flinching as he sprinted out, throwing the glass away without a care in the world because Ranboo was free! _Ranboo was free!_

“Get back here!”

Punz was behind him, a looming threat so Ranboo just needed to lose him. It was fine! He’d _just_ taken the potion so he could out-manoeuvre someone who didn’t have a gift like his.

The lake would have been a probably normally. But Ranboo just hopped it. Hopped it as if it were nothing and landed on his knees in the grass and the soil and he could help but fall into it, breathing in the scent of the earth, such a welcome reprieve from the grime and the blood from before, and running his stinging hands over it again and again, giggling to himself.

The sky was _blue!_ How long had it been since he’d seen this colour outside of the lumps of lapis he’d gotten from Ghostbur (where was Ghostbur?)? How long since he’d seen a flower? A delicate little thing with red petals and a black center, swaying in the breeze. He didn’t dare touch it with his filthy hands, lest it get dirty. But he was content to watch.

A bird chirped. Ranboo sobbed into the ground, smiling like a madman. The grass was softer than blackstone. He could lie there forever, he could sleep there forever, sleep away the exhaustion and pain and bask in the gentle sunlight for a lifetime.

The energy from before had been sapped completely, leaving Ranboo totally drained as he listened to the sounds around him, everything he’d missed. Somewhere over the hill was L’Manberg, in which was his house—

Ranboo would’ve jolted up in horror if he hadn’t been so tired. His pets! Who’d look after them? Had anyone fed them? Where were they?

A shadow filled his view of the sun. It smiled. Ranboo’s happy tears slowed to a stop.

Hands. Hands on him, flipping his emaciated body over and wrenching his wrists behind him to be bound up tightly with rough rope as he screamed and shrieked, struggling to get away.

“N-no! Please, I do-don’t want to! Please _no!”_

“Sorry kid,” Punz said, cutting off the cries with the silver muzzle being forced around his mouth. “I’ve been paid too much to let you go.” Ranboo gave up. The fight left him completely and he flopped to the ground, body shuddering and shaking in the grips of an enemy.

However, Ranboo did not see the arrow pierce cleanly through Punz’s skull.

* * *

Tommy, hidden behind a tree a ways away, cloaked with an invis potion, watched in amazement as _Sapnap_ , of all people, shot Punz like it was nothing and _watched_ as he disintegrated. _Come on!_ Sapnap was stealing Tommy’s job because the _only_ reason Techno let him come was for his sharpshooting abilities.

Techno, also cloaked and ready to strike, was no longer moving. He watched as Sapnap rummaged through Punz’s inventory and took out a little, metal key before descending on Ranboo.

Three seconds later, the muzzle fell off.

Techno approached him, uncloaked, as Sapnap gathered the kid in his arms. He looked up, Ranboo’s face buried in his neck. “Technoblade,” he said coolly.

“Sapnap. May I ask?”

“Only if you explain as well.”

Techno shrugged. “Tommy likes him. So does Phil. Why shouldn’t I? You?”

Sapnap’s lip curled in contempt. “Dream went too far. I’m not letting him get away with something like this.” He looked over Techno’s shoulder. “You can come out. I won’t hurt you!”

Techno sighed, deep in his throat. “Come on, Tommy.”

So Tommy drank his bottle of milk and came out cautiously, hiding behind Techno still. “’ow do.”

“Good enough.”

Techno hummed. “So is Dream gonna be pissed that you killed his mercenary or…?”

“He won’t know. Check the comms.”

Tommy did.

**_Punz was slain by [SERVER ERROR]_ **

“Smart,” was all Techno said. Tommy had the vaguest recollection of finding out that George knew how to code shit. “So. Can we have him?”

Sapnap snorted. “Yeah. Go ahead. He’s safer with you.” Ranboo was unconscious, and Techno scooped him up with a worried grimace.

“Light,” he grunted.

“I know. Take good care of him.” There was unexpected tenderness in Sapnap’s voice. “I won’t be blabbing to anyone.” He stood up and gave Tommy a half smile. “When you see Dream next, give him hell. Make him regret it.”

There was fire in his eyes. Tommy felt those same flames in his heart. “I will, Sapnap. Thank you.”

Sapnap only nodded with a faint quirk of his lips and walked away, as fast as he could. Techno slung an arm over Tommy’s shoulder, messaging Phil.

“Let’s go home, Tommy.”

“Sounds good, big man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to offer any consolation, part of my Actual outline for this story was:  
> 'sapnap visits uwu and is like "oh god FUCKING damn it dream you piece of SHIT"'  
> so yeah, those are the standards we are operating at here.
> 
> also please don't bash my lullaby, i tried, okay, i'm just bad at songs and it's three am right now so im slowly dying


	3. hello, welcome home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing is a long process. And sometimes there are setbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you listen closely, you can hear me cursing to the gods for letting this get so long like what the fuck this chapter is over 14k im so done with myself holy shit. anyway, hope that explains the long wait. 
> 
> all i know is eat hot chip, write long chapters and hurt ranboo >:)

Tommy wasn’t sure if he hated or loved the familiar tug of the pearl sucking him away to somewhere new. At least it didn’t hurt. With both Techno and Ranboo to share the damage he would’ve taken, Tommy felt only a prick of pain as he jolted and found himself standing in the snow. Cold slammed into him almost immediately, but he didn’t give a single shit, face splitting into a wild grin.

“We fucking did it, Techno!” he cried, hopping around in an odd little dance of pure excitement as Techno looked on, brow creased a little in worry.

He snorted a little. “Yeah. God, I hope I don’t owe Sapnap anything after this. Don’t fall, Tommy. I can’t carry two teenagers.”

Phil was the first to race out, followed by a slightly bedraggled Niki, who took one look at the bundle in Techno’s arms and slid to a stop in the snow with some difficulty, before forcing herself to take small, stiff steps toward them, almost cautiously.

“Did you run into any trouble? I saw Punz died.” Phil asked in a low voice.

Techno shrugged, watching Niki as she stroked the hair off Ranboo’s forehead with shaky fingers. “Sapnap killed him. There was literally no reason for Tommy to come after all. Turns out that the guy betrayed his best friend cos Dream had gone ‘too far’ in his words.” He adopted a scowl, remembering the muzzle, the struggling. “I don’t blame him.”

“Right. Let’s get inside.” Phil frowned a little. “He looks…” Like he was on death’s door. Tommy could made out the scars, the multicoloured bruises that peppered his skin, the way his clothes hung off him far too loosely to have ever been healthy, the skin rubbed raw at his wrists, the burns on his cheeks from tear tracks. “Bad,” Phil finished.

“Yes,” Niki said, turning around abruptly and storming inside. Her eyes were unreadable.

No one said anything of it as they all rushed indoors to get the kid out of the cold. Tommy hung back and plonked himself onto the sofa, finding himself entirely useless at the moment with three adults disappearing downstairs to try and bring Ranboo back to consciousness.

But it was fine. He could act as a lookout. As soon as Punz woke up and told someone of this escape, they would be under immediate suspicion. He spared a glance to the little box he’d once hidden in. He didn’t want to resort to that for Ranboo. It was bad enough for him.

Edward the enderman _vwoop-_ ed quietly, and Tommy turned to him, careful to look at his chest instead of his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. Edward didn’t answer but pointed with one, skeletal finger at the trapdoor leading downstairs. Tommy snorted. “Yeah! Yeah,” he repeated, quieter. “He’s my friend, I’ll have you know. So you better be nice to him.” Edward just warbled in response, but it didn’t sound threatening, so Tommy took that as a ‘yes’. Another bout of silence that hammered its piercing shriek into Tommy’s head. “He’s like you, you know. Well, half. I think you’ll like him.”

 _“Vwoop!”_ And then a noise that sounded unsettlingly close to ‘I know’ which convinced him that he was being driven insane.

“Do you think he’ll be okay? I mean, they used water on him and apparently they were-were going to execute him.” Instead of answering verbally, Edward cocked his head at Tommy and bobbed his head up and down which he could mistake easily as a nod. “Yeah. Hopefully. Thanks Edward.”

Tommy decidedly didn’t point out how human the answering warble was.

* * *

The last thing Ranboo remembered clearly was the fading melody of a familiar song. Then there was some kind of boost of energy that zapped his frail body, blood-pumping, heart-pounding energy that he’d never experienced before.

He remembered gentle green, not like Dream’s hoodie. Blue. Panic accompanied with a flash of deadly silver. White, and a pair of careful hands cradling him.

And then there was nothing.

He blinked up at the spruce ceiling which was lit gently by golden lanterns and not harsh glowstone, vaguely wondering if they’d moved him to another cell for his execution. He remembered the execution. Tears pooled in his eyes as he thought about it. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t think he deserved it.

He did.

_I don’t!_

_You betrayed them._

_I didn’t mean to._

Ranboo wondered why they put him in a bed for this. Maybe it was a final comfort thing. Even then, the warmth was nice, as was the way the mattress cradled his aching muscles and the duvet acted as a grounding weight against the panic that was already starting to clog up his mind.

He didn’t want to die. _He didn’t want to die!_

Ranboo rolled over onto his side and tugged the blankets up over his head, curling up tightly into a ball with his knees tucked into his chest. One ear stayed cocked, listening carefully as the pillow began to dampen underneath his face. The burn was like an old friend at that point.

There! Footsteps approaching. Slightly uneven, and every other step had an odd, _clunk_ to it. His trembling had begun, and Ranboo couldn’t find it in himself to peer out of his cocoon which was his only shield from Quackity’s cruel gaze or that porcelain mask that haunted his dreams—

There was humming. That confused Ranboo. No one hummed in the prison. The footsteps stop all of a sudden, only a little bit away and Ranboo held as still as he possibly could, muffling his whimpers in the sheets.

“Ranboo?” He didn’t recognise that voice either. Deep, a little raspy, accented. “Are you awake, under there?” Tommy. His eyes widened in horrified realisation. _Tommy._ Tommy was in the prison. To watch him die? No, he wouldn’t. Surely. He grew ever closer, and Ranboo’s muscles locked up in terror. “Are you alright? Should I go get Phil?”

Phil? Why would Phil be here too? How many people did Dream invite? “N-no,” he got out, breath stuttering. He winced at the hoarseness in his voice.

The bed dipped a little as Tommy sat down. “Okay big man. That’s okay. Phil probably would’ve just given you another pot. You look _really_ bad right now. No offence.” Tommy making an effort to be nice was almost comforting in a strange sense. He wished the moment could last forever.

“Mhm.”

“Do you want to come out? I have water for you.” Did he? He needed to at some point. So slowly, very slowly, he peeled the covers away from his face, wincing at the light. Tommy grinned at him with all of his teeth, reaching forward. Ranboo flinched violently, and Tommy hesitated, faltering. “I, um, I’m just going to help you sit up. To drink.”

“Okay,” Ranboo whispered, still tensing at the hands sliding underneath him and supporting his back as they pulled him up gently. His throat closed at the notion, feeling the urge to cry at Tommy being so careful with him, as if he wasn’t a monster. He looked well. Better than he had before, at least. His cheeks fuller, his eyes brighter and now almost their previous vibrant blue. He wore light blues and whites and gentle reds.

“There we are, big man. Here,” Tommy said, presenting a pristine glass of water with a straw poking out of it. Ranboo gasped sharply as it was moved toward him quickly, hands flinging up to protect his face from the water that was about to be splashed please it hurt he didn’t want it please—

“Ranboo, Ranboo, it’s okay, I’m not going to spill it on you!” Tommy’s frantic words reached his ears before common sense sunk in. Tommy was not Dream, he scolded himself. Tommy wouldn’t hurt him on purpose. So, with shaking hands, he took the glass and stuck the straw in his mouth, drinking greedily.

As he finished the glass, he took a gasp of air and looked at Tommy, right in the eyes like he was supposed to, brows furrowed a little. “Wh-where’d you get-get the straw?”

Tommy shrugged. “Niki brought it with her. She brought those clothes as well,” he continued, jerking his chin toward Ranboo’s chest. When he looked down, he saw that he was dressed in a warm hoodie and sweatpants, remembering how Niki always had a spare change of clothes for him at her house.

Then he stiffened. “Ni-Niki?”

Niki was here. Niki was here to watch him die. The thought of it made his eyes water and his heart soar at the same time. She was _here._ Here for him, and she was going to watch something awful, but she was _here._

“Yeah. She’s been real worried about you. Phil made her go eat something an hour ago and I think she might be asleep.” Tommy snorted. “Figures.”

Would it be selfish of him to ask for her? Would Dream let him? Was Dream even there? “I-can I—”

Tommy’s eyes softened. “Yeah. You can see her if you want. Hang on,” he said, standing up unsteadily, and Ranboo didn’t remember him having a prosthetic leg but decided not to comment on it.

Tommy was going to leave, and the ball of panic present in Ranboo’s gut only grew bigger, consuming the insides of his stomach with sharp, piercing agony as he watched on silently. Where was Dream? Where was Quackity or Fundy or anyone from the prison?

“Wait!”

Tommy stopped. Turned around. “What’s wrong?”

Ranboo swallowed, hugging his middle tightly. “When is it?” he choked out, looking down at his lap. He couldn’t feel his memory book on him, and the tears came faster. Where was his memory book? He couldn’t— Dream _promised_ he could keep it—

“When’s what?”

“My-my ex-execution.” The last part was thready, barely there, and yet the words carved a deep gash into his heart. Ranboo sobbed out a gasp that tore at his chest, curling into himself further.

Tommy sounded stricken, but not for the reasons Ranboo would’ve thought. “We’re not going to _kill_ you Ranboo!” Tommy hissed. “I-where do you even think you _are_ right now?”

They weren’t going to kill him. Ranboo slumped with an incredulous little giggle. They weren’t going to kill him! “Prison,” he mumbled, bringing his head forward into his hands and staying, hunched over in that position. “I th-thought—because Fundy said I could-I could have people there when th-they…” He trailed off.

Tommy’s expression twisted and Ranboo cringed back automatically, taking a moment to realise that the anger wasn’t directed at him. “Ranboo. Ranboo, you’re in Techno’s house. We live in the middle of nowhere. You aren’t going to _die._ ”

“Okay.”

Tommy ran a hand over his face, and pulled out his communicator. “Yelling isn’t okay with you, right?” Ranboo, a little taken aback, nodded in surprise. “Thought so. Dream’s a smart bastard but he doesn’t change his ways. I’m just texting Phil to bring you some food.” He scowled. “You’re skin and bones.”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“The hell are you sorry for? I’m pissed at _Dream_ , not you!”

“I know but—” Ranboo gestured around, “it’s-it’s dumb. Just…yeah. Sorry.”

Tommy answered by collapsing back onto the end of the bed, swinging his feet up to rest beside Ranboo’s thighs. His prosthetic was made of shiny spruce wood and leather. “Nothing’s your fault,” he said firmly. “Dream told me a bunch of horseshit too. It’s all to get into your head, so you can’t listen to it.”

Wrong. Ranboo was a traitor. Tommy was exiled for something only partially his fault. Ranboo deserved everything that happened to him ~~he _didn’t_~~ whereas Tommy was treated unfairly. Tubbo wouldn’t just execute an innocent.

Someone peeked their head down the trapdoor. “Hello!” Phil called with a relieved grin. “Good to see your eyes, mate.” Mentally cursing himself, Ranboo swung his gaze up to meet Phil’s eyes. “I’ll come down in a sec, just give me a moment.”

There was more noise upstairs, and a distinctly female voice that sent an icy jolt straight through Ranboo’s heart. And then the person climbing down the ladder wasn’t Phil but _Niki._

His breath stuttered as he took her in, tired and wan and a little ruffled but the sparkle in her eyes and the soft smile that tugged at her lips hadn’t changed in the past however many years he’d known her. And then he was crying, but he didn’t care for the burn from the tears, feebly holding out both lanky arms to her as if he were six all over again and had fallen off the branches of their apple tree and scraped his leg and needed his big sister to kiss the tears away, knowing that if she refused, he would shatter into a million pieces and never recover. _Please,_ he mouthed, desperate. 

Niki wasted no time, darting straight into Ranboo’s outstretched arms and curling around his body protectively, her chin resting on the top of his head, his face buried in her shoulder, claws imbedded in the back of her top and refusing to let go.

“You-you c-came,” he stammered out, muffled by the solid wall that was her shoulder and she shushed him quietly, rocking him as she gathered him properly into her embrace.

“I did, of course I did,” she soothed, voice thick. “I’d always come for you, no matter what.” He tried to thank her, he really did, but he couldn’t stop his sobbing and the way the cries shook his whole frame until he felt like he was going to break apart and that the only thing keeping him together were Niki’s arms. “It will be alright, you’re safe. No one can touch you now, I promise.”

“I tho-thought you hat-hated m-me,” Ranboo said through his heaving breaths.

Niki’s answer was firm. “Never. Never in a million years would I hate you. You hear me, Ranboo?” She pulled away so that she could wipe away his tears with her thumb, cleaning it just like how she did when they were kids. “You’re my little brother and it would take death itself to rip us apart.”

He nodded, unable to let go of her, his crying only getting worse. She made no move to get away, settling herself down on the bed with him. Ranboo was aware of another hand, gently stroking his back in smooth motions.

It was an age later when he finally peered out from Niki’s shoulder, eyes blurry from the tears and the pressure that had been applied to them. She greeted his face with a smile which almost sent him over the edge again.

“Would you like some food?” she asked, and he nodded quickly, painfully aware of his nearly empty stomach.

Someone came forward and his grip on Niki tightened for a split second before he could register Phil’s robes and friendly smile. He carried a tray which he set on Ranboo’s lap. On it, a bowl of broth, a glass of water, a bottle of pink potion and a golden apple. “It’s not a lot, and most of it’s healing but—”

Ranboo looked up at him (in the eyes and felt relief when Phil’s gaze darted away), with astonishment on his face. “Is this all fo-for me?”

Both adults in the room froze and Ranboo got the distinct feeling that he said something bad. Tommy spoke up. “Of course it is!” he said sincerely. “Who else would it be for?”

Ranboo’s mouth felt dry. “Dream never-I mean I didn’t really need that…much…”

Something in Niki’s face made him stop talking. Tommy sighed, loud, exaggerated. “Well what did I say about Dream? He’s full of shit, he is. Now quit your talking and eat. You look like shit.”

“Tommy!” Phil hissed, but the remark startled a chuckle out of Ranboo.

“I _know,_ that’s the sec-second time you’ve t-told me.”

Niki didn’t say anything, choosing instead to blot his tears with her sleeve and then moving to pick up the potion bottle and dribble a little bit onto her fingers before slowly reaching forward to rub the stuff into his cheeks as she did when they were younger. The soothing cold hit him almost immediately, and he sighed a little as the pain from his tears was erased with every stroke. She planted a dry kiss on his forehead as she drew away, wiping her hands with a flowery handkerchief she produced from her pocket. “That’s better. Now eat, and then you should sleep.”

He nodded and picked up the spoon and scooped some of the broth into his mouth, closing his eyes against the flavour that already had tears pricking at his eyes. It had been _so_ long since he’d had anything other than stale bread and withered greens. “Is it alright?” Phil asked carefully.

Ranboo nodded. “’S good,” he replied, voice thick.

Tommy huffed. “Come on Phil, you’re making the poor man nervous,” he announced suddenly. “Off with you. Go on! You have old man things to do!”

Niki and Ranboo shared a glance and began giggling as Phil sputtered indignantly, standing up to leave anyway. “I’m not _that_ old!”

“You kinda are, Phil!” A new voice had joined the ridicule, from upstairs. Technoblade. Tommy cackled, doubling over.

“You heard the Blade, Phil!”

“Techno, you’re grounded.”

“ _I’m a grown man!_ ”

* * *

If Techno had an emerald for every time a teen traumatised specifically by Dream had had to be hidden in his house against the actual law, he’d have two emeralds, which wasn’t even enough to trade for bookshelves, but it was a concerning coincidence.

Almost as concerning as Dream’s penchant for manipulating minors. Like, come on. This was the _third_ time! Techno thought _he_ was bad, but compared to that green bastard, the Blood God was nothing.

Ranboo had only been around for two days, but was already starting to worm his way into Techno’s heart with his dry humour and quiet demeanour. A far cry from Tommy’s yelling, but that was to be expected. Tommy was, as Phil put it, one of a kind.

The kid was jumpy, which was to be expected, and seemed to shrink in on himself constantly, diminishing his height by a few inches, maybe to appear less threatening. Techno wasn’t sure exactly why. He was quiet, but unnaturally so, and woke up two nights in a row screaming. No one had the guts to ask what the nightmares were about.

Techno had a vivid imagination, however. He could guess.

_(Ranboo liked to sit near the window and stare out with slightly glassy eyes for hours at a time, completely still and unmoving for the most part. Techno was left wondering how the conditions inside the prison must’ve been because of it, if the heavy snow or weak sunshine was enough to bring a bright smile onto the kid’s face._

_Of course, the adults couldn’t stay around and watch him forever. Niki often went off with Phil to trade with the villagers or weave blankets and baskets with Tommy on the floor, Ranboo watching on and jumping in with the occasional comment. Techno went off on surveillance missions to L’Manberg, trying to gauge the state of the nation after the daring escape._

_He hadn’t heard from Sapnap since that day. He was disappointed to say that the radio silence worried him._

_He should call at some point, but he wasn’t sure when._

_It was after one of his scouting missions, that it happened. Techno had shaken out his boots and had come indoors to find Ranboo and Tommy conversing quietly on the couch, a blanket draped over their laps. Tommy only lifted a hand to respond to Techno’s arrival._

**_SAFE POG safe!! ranboo and tommy safe!!! EEE HI EDWARD_ **

_“Phil’n Niki went to get wood,” he explained. “There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”_

_At least Phil had the common decency to leave out food for the literal homeowner. Whatever. Techno didn’t care. He wasn’t miffed. Not at all. (He couldn’t really, not when Tommy still had trouble walking and Ranboo freaked out when he was asked to do something.)_

_Grumbling under his breath, he lumbered into the kitchen and nearly slid on a puddle of…was that an awkward potion? “Tommy!”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Who spilled an awkward potion on the floor?”_

_There was a beat of silence. “I didn’t do it and Ranboo doesn’t think he did either! Might’ve been one of the dogs!”_

**_DOG?? DOG DOG POG DOG POG DOG POG DOG POG DOG POG_ **

_Techno bit his lip to stop himself from smiling at chat. He located the bottle, still somehow intact and completely empty as it lay on its side. Sighing, Techno resigned himself to having to clean up this mess, wandering out to grab a bucket and a mop after checking for glass shards._

_The water sloshed around in the metal bucket ( **TECHNOBAD NO WATER BAD TECHNO NO** ) he’d grabbed from a random chest as he carried it up the stairs, through the front door and into the living room where the kids were still sitting. “Don’t mind me. Just passin’ through.”_

_Techno wasn’t sure what it was, but he probably could’ve attributed it to the burns on the kid’s body. Ghostbur had mentioned torture, so really, it was on him that Ranboo immediately stiffed, hunching over with his hands immediately reaching up to tug at his hair in distress. “Ranboo?” Tommy asked, looking up in fear at Techno._

**_WATER BAD WATER HORRIBLE TECHNO WHY E TECHNOBAD RANBOOSUPPORT HELP HIM PROTECT HIM RANBOO SUPPORT_ **

_He steeled himself. “Hey, Ranboo,” he said gently, approaching slowly, “can you tell me where you are?”_

_Ranboo flinched away, curling up into a tight ball with his head shoved between his knees as he struggled for breath. “Did-didn’t do it-it!” he gasped, voice breaking midway. Tommy looked anxious, and Techno decided that he couldn’t deal with two teens having panic attacks._

_“I don’t know what you didn’t do kid. No one’s asking you to share here. But can you tell me where you are?”_

_“Do-don’t, plea-please it_ hurts, _” he whimpered through a sob._

**_HEART HURTS TECHNOSUPPORT_ **

_Techno and Tommy exchanged looks. “Tommy, why don’t you go grab one of the dogs.” He’d heard from Niki that Ranboo kept multiple pets. If Techno couldn’t convince him that he was safe, maybe an animal would._

_Thankfully, Tommy nodded and reached for his crutches, speeding his way across the room and outside to the kennel. “I won’t be hurtin’ you Ranboo. Is it alright if I sit?” No answer. Techno remained standing, not wanting to stress him out anymore. He could make out the way he was shaking violently, frozen to the spot. He’d seen Tommy like that before. And Techno’s thirst for revenge grew stronger._

_There was a small creak as the front door opened enough for a large wolf to come padding in, Tommy following close behind with a hand on its back. “This way,” he whispered, nudging it to the couch._

_The dog, Cressida was what Techno had named her, was one of the most emotionally intelligent beasts he’d ever met. Fierce on the battlefield but around Tommy, she was so, incredibly gentle, knowing exactly how to calm him down if the situation called for it. So it was no surprise to him when she moved over to Ranboo and climbed up onto the couch, licking at his shoulder._

**_CRESSIDA POG EE SHE S H E_ **

_He flinched, so she tried again, nudging him with her furry head with a whine that made him relax somewhat. Techno placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder as they watched the exchange, watched as Cressida slid her way onto Ranboo’s lap and how he knotted his fingers in her thick fur with tears streaming down his nose. Tommy strode over and sat nearby, patting her as well with relief in his eyes._

**_TOMMY AND RANBOO SUPPORT PROTECT WITH LIFE BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GODBB_ **

_Silently, Techno slipped away, grabbing the bucket and escaping to the kitchen to clean up the spill and grab a healing pot.)_

Of course, there were several triggers. Water, dark rooms, raised voices. They were mindful though. Cressida helped whenever Niki couldn’t.

Nodded a hello to Edward without making eye contact, Techno moved to make breakfast seeing as no one was up yet. Edward warbled a good morning back, jaw unhinging as he did. Purple particles swirled around his body, popping in and out of existence. “You want anything to eat?” Techno asked.

Edward didn’t answer that question, instead pointing down at the trapdoor leading to the room underneath with a long, spindly finger with a questioning gargle. Techno understood it though. “You want Ranboo?” An very human nod. “He’s not awake yet. He’ll come, trust me.”

**he misses ranboo?? Awwwwwww AWWWWWW e EDWARD FARMING AWWS**

Edward had immediately gotten attached to the kid, tending to go on and on about things Techno couldn’t be bothered asking about. Maybe it was the loneliness of only being able to talk in End-speak. Whatever it was, Edward would ask for Ranboo every morning. They would talk during breakfast, in those odd syllables Techno couldn’t hope to replicate.

_(The day after bringing Ranboo back, only a few hours after he’d woken up, he was taken upstairs. He’d taken to eyeing Edward nervously, gaze flitting away every time Edward tried to spark conversation. Niki had nudged his shoulder. “I was told by Techno that Edward is very nice.” She hesitated. “Perhaps it would be wise to practise your End-speak?”_

_“Are-are you sure I’m allowed?”_

**_DDDDDDDD:_ **

_Anger flickered across Niki’s face for a second, before disappearing without a trace. “Of course you are. I’m sure Edward has many interesting things to say.”_

_“He does,” Techno confirmed. “Just no one to talk to about them. He doesn’t bite, kid.”_

_So Ranboo, with assistance from Niki, went over and sat near Edwards boat, whispering out a small greeting. Edward responded with a warble. Ranboo nodded and Edward lit up. Literally. His eyes shone purple for split second and the particles grew in intensity as he began to babble about_ something _that only Ranboo seemed to understand. Tommy grumbled something about it not being fair. Niki grinned for the first time that night. Phil looked stunned._

_They left the two, lost in their own conversation as Ranboo began to cautiously answer quiet words that had an odd, distorted quality to them._

_“Does he do that a lot?” Tommy asked in a stage-whisper. Phil shot him a glare._

_Niki smiled ruefully. “He used to. People started getting uncomfortable with it when he was around ten, so he stopped doing it as much.”_

_“It’s good for him,” Techno interjected. “Bein’ around another enderman. He can learn more about himself that way.”_

**_HYBRID POG TECHNOHYBRID TECHNOPIGLIN_ **

_“Mhm. Most of them don’t like him much, though.” Her smile turned sad. “Edward is one of the first ones to not try and attack him on sight.”_

_“Yeah, well, Edward is a special one.”_

_Tommy nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “Hey Ranboo?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“Can you teach me that?”_

_Ranboo smiled a tiny bit. Techno counted it as a win. “If you want. Come here.”_

_Tommy hobbled over and practically collapsed to the floor, leaning against Ranboo’s shoulder a little as he listened attentively._

_“Uh. Vrrp?” Tommy tried on his first attempt. Ranboo was physically holding back a laugh, face screwed up as he nodded as seriously as he could. “What?” Tommy asked, mild annoyance in his voice. “It wasn’t that bad.”_

_“Uh.” Ranboo glanced at Edward who warbled something scathing in reply, bad enough to make the ender kid wince. “N-no. Not that bad. Just a little…off.”_

_“Then you show me.”_

_Something like fear flickered across his face. “I-Edward can teach you pro-properly. I’m not-not so good at it.”_

_Techno was honestly surprised at the way Tommy backed off almost immediately, nodding and asking Edward to repeat the word. He tried again, and it sounded a little closer at least. “What did I just say?”_

_“You said ‘hello’.”_

_“My little boy,” Phil sniffled, pretending to wipe away a tear, “learning End-speak like a big man.”_

_“Shut up, Phil!”_

_There was a chorus of laughter that rung around the room. Techno felt something warm in his heart, but he brushed it off as being glad that they were all safe. “Do you remember the word for love?” Niki asked. “I think it was something like…um…” She cleared her throat and gave a small trill which ended in a hum. Edward cocked his head at her and mimicked the sound, a little more practised and polished but basically the same and nodded._

**_THEY’RE SO WHOLESOME IM GONNA CRY_ **

_Ranboo grinned at her, wide and bright, chirping in response, and Techno saw her shoulders visibly relax when he did so._

_There were three seconds before Ranboo realised what he’d just done and clapped a hand over his mouth. Purple particles popped in and out of existence around him as his shoulders shook and his frame rattled in fear. In the next five seconds, Niki had slid toward him, hands up and talking quietly, calmly._

_“I-I’m so-sorry, pl-please d-don’t—”_

_“I won’t hurt you,” Niki replied firmly. “The noises are natural, and no one cares if you make them.”_

_Techno’s balled his hands up into a fist at his side, pressing his lips together as nails dug into soft flesh. “Dr-Dream said…” He choked himself off, bowing his head and scrubbing at his eyes._

_“What did Dream say?” Niki pushed gently._

_There was a broken little sound that came from Ranboo’s mouth._

**_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD KILL DREAM DREAM DEAD FUCK THAT GREEN BITCH_ **

_“Cal-called me a fre-freak.”_

_Niki was silent for a little, head turned away so no one could see her expression. But when she spoke, her voice sounded steady as she opened up her arms. “Come here, Boo.” He did, scuttling straight into her embrace and wounding his body tight around hers. For a little bit, the only sound in the room was of his breathing, erratic and harsh. “You’re not a freak,” Niki said sadly. “You’re you. That’s all you need to be.”_

_“I’ll tell you who the real freak is here, Ranboo!” Tommy begun passionately. “It’s that green bastard himself! He wishes he were us.” He kicked out with his prosthetic unsteadily, nearly falling over in the process and causing Phil to lunge forward to steady him. “I’ll kick him right in the dick! We’ll see how he likes not being able to have kids!”_

_It wasn’t much but it was enough to coax a wet giggle from Ranboo.)_

Slowly, the house woke up. First, was Phil. Then Niki, looking a little more rested now. Tommy and Ranboo came in together and sat down next to each other, Tommy chattering on about something with Ranboo adding on to the conversation wherever he could.

“So, basically, what I’m saying is that if I can get married to all women ever, what’s stopping me from taking over the world with all my wives?” Techno, with a tinge of horror, realised that Tommy sounded completely serious and prayed Ranboo would knock some sense into him. “Me and my women would just get rid of all men every except for me and it will be a perfect world. No men sounds like the dream.”

“I see. And when do you plan to do this? Marry all women, I mean?” Ranboo asked, sounding a little amused.

“Next week. I have a five step fail-proof plan I came up with last night and the only thing stopping me is Phil, but we all know that, with his age, his arthritis won’t let him come after me.”

**OLDZA DADZA OLD DAD IS OLD PHILZA POG TOMMYJOKE JOKEINNIT**

Chat still went nuts over every single part of the old Tommy they could find in this new version.

Techno guffawed at the offence on Phil’s face. “It’s _always_ the same joke with you! Oh, we’ll fucking see how bad my arthritis is, you fucking gremlin,” he muttered in response, putting down a plate of sliced fruits in front of the two boys. “You fucking wait, Tommy.”

“You don’t scare me, Philza. You’re old.”

“I’m not that old!” He rounded on Niki, sipping serenely on a mug of tea. “Aren’t I, Niki?”

She hummed, sounding thoughtful. “You’re older than I am.”

“Oh my fucking god. Techno?”

He shot Phil a sharp grin. “You heard the lady.”

“Unbelievable. None of you are getting a spot in my will.”

Ranboo sniggered. “You can’t leave everything to your horse, Phil.”

**H O N S E**

“Fucking watch me, Ranboo.”

“What’s a horse going to do with a bunch of enchanted books?”

“Make its armour better,” Phil retorted. Techno didn’t miss the twinkle in his eye. “Fuck you, I have at least a stack of emerald blocks and none of you are getting any of it.”

Tommy smiled, wide and almost innocent. “Yes we are.”

“We?”

“Me and Ranboo.”

Ranboo’s eyes blew wide. “No! No, you are not dragging me into another one of your-your plans!”

“Too late, bitch boy, we’re doing this.”

**CRIME TIME POGGG**

“You’re taking advantage of my lack of backbone!”

“ _Exactly.”_

“Knock, knock!”

Everyone turned to the door. Phil immediately went over and opened it. They hadn’t seen Ghostbur since the prison escape and worry had been gnawing at Techno’s stomach since.

**GHOSTBUR GHOSTBUR GHOSTBURPOG OH NO HIDE PROTECTBOO HIDE GHOSTBUR PROTECTBOO**

Oh no. Chat was going crazy. Again.

“Hello, Phil! And Niki too!” He positively beamed when his gaze landed on Ranboo. “You’re here! Oh good, you’re safe!”

Phil shut the door after a quick glance out. “Where’ve you been? It’s been two days, bud.”

Ghostbur’s eyes glazed over as his face grew blank and then reanimated again. “Oh! I don’t actually remember, you see. It was raining for a bit, so I had to stay there. I went back to L’Manberg, but I don’t think I told anyone and then the next thing I know, I’m here!” His eyebrows were still creased. Techno knew he was forgetting something else. Something important.

“Well, I’m glad to see you safe,” Niki said, smiling as she pet his arm. He grinned at her. “Has anything happened yet?” _With the cabinet_ , were the words left unspoken.

“I don’t remember!” Ghostbur proclaimed cheerfully, skipping around. “Haven’t seen Tubbo in a while, though. Dream came by once, but he didn’t really talk to me.”

The name drew a collective, sharp intake of breath. “Oh?” Techno asked. “Interestin’.”

Phil glanced out the window, squinting hard at something and froze. “Ghostbur?” he asked quietly. “Why-why is Tubbo _here?_ ”

**NO NO NO NO NO NO NOT TUBBO TUBBO NO NOTPOG NOT POG**

“ _What?_ ”

Techno and Niki lunged for the window at the same time, watching in horror as, through the falling snow, three figures, illuminated by lanterns, lumbered closer. Maybe only around five minutes away. Techno’s heart dropped.

“Tubbo?” Tommy whispered, glancing over at Ranboo who sat frozen in his seat. “Oh no.”

**RANBOOSUPPORT TOMMYSUPPORT FUCK TUBBO TOMMYSUPPORT**

“Oh!” Ghostbur pranced around happily. “I saw him walking up here to meet you and I said hi! He looks really stressed.” He faltered at the glares he got from around the room, shrinking in on himself, smile wavering the slightest bit. “Was I not supposed to?” No one answered his question.

“He’s coming with Quackity and Fundy. Shit.” Techno straightened. “We need to hide you and Ranboo,” he said to Niki who nodded tensely, bolting over to gently tug Ranboo out of his seat, grabbing the sword that sat near the door. Phil moved to clear up the two extra plates in record time. “Any ideas?”

**BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD**

Silence. “My raccoon hole?” Techno nodded once at Tommy.

“Sounds good. Explain the situation to Ghostbur. I’ll be quick.”

Techno led the two down to the basement, worry in his gut at how unresponsive Ranboo was. But there was a time and place to deal with such things and this was not it. Instead, Techno mined the block to their secret storage room that had once been Tommy’s little cave, leading them down the rickety ladder. “Cosy,” Niki muttered, hugging Ranboo tight to her side. Tommy’s old bed was still there, as were the chests he’d brought with him. “We’ll be fine.” She probably would too. The sword hung loosely from her fingers, but Techno had seen her fight before.

He doubted that she’d let anyone within ten feet of Ranboo, and frankly that was all he needed to know. “Listen. I’m countin’ on our ability to keep a secret here, but if shit goes down, that door—” he nodded at the spruce wood door set into the stone wall, “leads to a tunnel that goes straight outside. Tommy made it and I made it better. It goes to a safe room that is activated by a keycode. When you go through, block the entrance up.” He passed her a slip of paper he always kept on him. “This is the code, keep it safe.”

She pocketed it. “Only if it all goes wrong. I am prepared to fight, though.”

**PROTECTOR NIKI NIKI POG QUEEN SHIT FIGHTING POG BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD**

He flashed her a grin. “Good.” Techno turned to Ranboo. “You’ll be fine, kid. We’ve done the whole ‘hidin’ teenagers from their abusers’ thing before. We’re pretty good at lyin’, actually.”

Ranboo’s jaw clenched. “Pl-please don-don’t let me go-go back,” he whispered.

**RANBOOSUPPORT RANBOOSUPPORT EEEEEEE SPAIN BUT WITHOUT THE S**

Techno’s heart physically clenched so bad it _hurt._ When had he caught feelings? “We won’t. Trust us. We wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of gettin’ you out just to give you up without a fight.”

He could see how Niki was supporting all of his weight as Ranboo’s knees began to buckle underneath him. “Come on,” she murmured, guiding him to the bed gently. “It’s alright.” He hid his face in her shoulder and she shot him a deadly look. He understood it to mean ‘fuck this up and I’ll fuck you up’.

Then, Phil was calling him, and Techno made to scramble out of the room with an awkward pat on Ranboo’s shoulder. He reached the top of the ladder and covered up the entrance three blocks deep, so it didn’t sound as hollow.

“Tommy, remember,” Phil was saying when Techno emerged from the basement, “you don’t mention Ranboo at all. Tubbo is your friend but he’s the one who signed the execution warrant. Same with you, Ghostbur. Niki and Ranboo aren’t here.” Tommy nodded in heavy resignation.

“They’re nearly here, Phil.” The dining and living area had been completely cleansed of the two new presences, the extra mugs and plates having been cleared out and their possessions having been hidden away in random chests. “They’re climbin’ the stairs and—”

A sharp knock interrupted them. Tommy sucked in a breath and plastered on a big smile, marching over before anyone could stop him and throwing the door open to exclaim, “Tubbo!”

**FUCK TUBBO FUCK THIS EXECUTION BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD WATER EXECUTION UNFAIR BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD KILL HIM FUCK FUNDY AND QUACKITY BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD**

Tubbo lit up. “Tommy!” he yelled, with just as much enthusiasm, hugging his best friend. Phil put on his own, warm smile. Techno tried to ignore the gravity of the situation, which was hard to do considering the fact that the last time these people were here, they’d wanted his head on a pike.

“How’ve you been?”

Tubbo shrugged, still beaming. “It’s been okay. Wish you were there, but…well it’s alright, I suppose. Big Q and Fundy’ve been helping me out a lot.”

**KILL QUACKITY KILL FUNDY BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD**

There was hope glimmering in Tommy’s eyes. “You here to visit? There’s an abandoned village a little way away that we can burn down if you want.”

A shake of a horned head. “Sorry Tommy.” He sounded genuinely apologetic. “We’re here on business.”

Tommy’s face fell. “Oh. What business?”

“Ranboo.” A chill entered the little cottage. “He’s gone missing with Niki and his citizenship hasn’t been terminated yet, so we’ve been looking for him.”

But it was a lie. A lie and they all knew it. Tommy hesitated. Techno stepped in. “Alright, what the heck do you think you’re doing? You barge into _my_ house and start askin’ these questions?”

“Sorry, Technoblade but—”

“Tubbo.” Something stern entered Phil’s voice. “Last time you were here, you tried to kill him.”

**YEAH DADZA FUCKING TELL HIM DADZA DADZA POG FUCK YEAHH**

Quackity’s eyes were icy chips. Tommy quailed at the sight of them. “He got his comeuppance. And we’ll be going as soon as you tell us whether or not you’ve seen Ranboo.”

“We haven’t,” Tommy replied curtly. Techno saw the gleam of the compass he wore around his neck, the gentle glow of its surface. “What do you want with him, anyway?”

It was Tubbo’s turn to falter. “He-he’s part of my cabinet, Tommy. I have to make sure he’s safe. And Niki too!”

Lie. Lie, lie, lie, lie.

“They’re not here. What do you think I’m runnin’?” Techno asked incredulously. “A hotel for whoever wants to stay the night?”

Fundy’s eyes narrowed into slits. “So you wouldn’t mind us looking around?”

**YES WE WOULD GET OUT LEAVE GOODBYE GO AWAY FUCK YOU**

Phil pursed his lips. “We would mind. But go ahead.”

They made their way in, Quackity shoving past Techno as quickly as he could. The three of them realised then that Ghostbur had disappeared again, most likely to the higher levels since Phil told him to stay out of sight. If Tubbo wanted something from him, it would be ridiculously easy to get it.

“It’s a nice place you have here, Technoblade!” Tubbo said cheerfully. “Really cosy!”

“Thanks,” he gritted out.

Even he’d noticed something off about Tubbo. The ice solidifying in his heart, the way his words were cold and clipped and had none of the warmth. How his gaze was sharper, how his smile was more dangerous and less bright now. None of the child-like innocent from before his presidency remained. This was not Tommy’s Tubbo.

Quackity had disappeared downstairs. Phil shot Techno a look and followed apprehensively. If he focused and got close enough, he could hear their conversation. “Anything else down here?”

**NO NO NO DON’T LET THEM TECHNONO TECHNOSUPPORT RANBOOSUPPORT FUCK QUACKITY HIDE THEM KEEP SAFE HIDE THEM BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD E**

“Nah. Just some extra storage. And villagers. Say hi, guys.”

A chorus of ‘hellos’ followed in the tongue that they only spoke.

“Interesting. Nothing underneath here, I hope?”

Phil laughed. It sounded strained to Techno’s ears. “Techno has plenty of hidey holes that even I don’t know about, so I couldn’t tell you mate.”

“We could dig it up, just to check?”

**FUCK YOU ABSOLUTELY NOT**

Techno put his foot down, storming into the basement. “Do _not_ dig up my floors or I _will_ take your last life, Quackity,” he growled.

“Hiding something, Techno?” Quackity asked airily, but he sounded afraid, and that was precisely what Techno needed.

“No, but my real estate value will go down and if it does, I swear to the Blood God I will find another creative way to kill you. This time with a hoe. Through your eyes.”

That was enough to make Quackity scoot upstairs. Phil and Techno shared a long look and ascended. “Stupid pricks,” he heard Phil mutter.

Tommy was sitting on the couch stiffly, right next to Tubbo as the president chattered on. The look of contentedness he had on at breakfast had all but vanished completely. “When will you be coming to visit?” Tubbo asked brightly.

Tommy mulled it over, eyebrows creased. “I can’t, Tubbo,” he said softly. “I’m still in exile. Dream will kill me.” His lips drew back into a scowl. “Besides, I’m not sure if there’s anything left for me back in L’Manberg.” The last part was mostly to himself.

Tubbo surprisingly didn’t look upset. “What do you mean, Tommy? I’m there!”

**PROTECT TOMMY PROTECTINNIT TOMMYSUPPORT**

“I know, but…” But Tubbo had ordered the execution of a kid he considered a friend. An execution that followed a month of torture and relentless interrogation, paired with treatment that brought a shiver up Techno’s spine. “But L’Manberg is still…It’s hard, Tubbo. With Wilbur…you know?”

Techno had to give credit where credit was due. Tommy was a decent actor. That or there was an element of truth behind those words. Either way, Phil grimaced at them and turned away. “I get that. So I guess I’ll be visiting you, then! After we find Ranboo, of course.”

It was hard to not ignore the following flinch. “Yeah. Just tell me in advance, big man.”

“Will do!”

**DON’T LET HIM NEAR TOMMY**

Fundy placed a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder. “We’ll be leaving. Thank you for this.”

Phil levelled a stare at his grandson. “I hope you find Ranboo safe.”

**DADZA POG DADZA POG FUCK THEM UP DADZA PHILZA POG LOVE DADZA STAN HIM EEEE BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD**

Fundy couldn’t even hold his gaze, turning away and toward the door to open it for Quackity and Tubbo. “Thanks for letting us look around! See you, Tommy!”

Tommy waved a weak goodbye to Tubbo, walking unsteadily into the living room and sinking onto the nearest chair to curl up, knees to his chest, head in his arms. Techno slammed the door shut as soon as they were far enough away.

“Oh my god!” Tommy began, voice high with incredulity. “Oh my god, Techno I _lied_ to Tubbo! Oh my god, I think I hate him, Phil I might hate Tubbo, I c-can’t hate Tub-Tubbo he’s my best friend!” he rambled, hands shaking as he fisted them in his hair. “He’s-he’s going to-to _hate_ me so mu-much because I _lied_ to him, Phil!”

**TOMMYSUPPORT HELP HIM TOMMYSUPPORT HUG TOMMY PLEASE DON’T CRY TOMMYSUPPORT**

Phil nodded at Techno. _‘I have this handled. Deal with the other problem.’_

Techno leapt at the chance to leave this, heading down and breaking the three blocks that were the only things keeping Ranboo and Niki from an early grave. “Hello?” he asked gruffly. “You two still alive? They’re gone.”

He headed down the ladder, met with the sight of Ranboo, asleep in Niki’s arms as she sat on top of the musty bed, staring blankly at a wall. She snapped out of it when Techno came into view. “Gone? Good. We heard some of it.”

“They wanted to dig the basement up. Had to threaten Quackity with his life for him not to do it.”

“I know. Thank you.”

**AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW**

A comfortable silence fell over the two as Niki hoisted Ranboo up to his feet unsteadily. He was still conked out, and much taller than she was which made it hard for her to walk with him, half of his body on her shoulder. “Any plans from here on out?”

Niki looked thoughtful for a second, glancing away. “Yes. I have a place. My secret city I started with Fundy.” A bitter smile. “I need to bring some things over, which will take a few days, and start building. L’Manberg is no longer our home. I asked Phil and he directed me to a spot near the mountains. Apparently, there isn’t so much rainfall there. I’d like to start a house there.”

**HOUSE POG???? BUILDING POG?????**

“The place next to the cliffs? Yeah, it’s got plenty of resources.”

“Mhm. I also need to get Puffy over there. She’s the only one I trust now.” Ranboo stirred slightly, bleary eyes opening into slits. “Can you help with him, Techno?” He moved forward, taking the weight off Niki and scooping him up with one arm before staring at the ladder with a determined scowl. She went up first, waiting at the entrance as he began to haul himself up.

Niki grabbed Ranboo by the arms and dragged his body out. It was worrying easy, considering how much lighter he’d become since his imprisonment, and the amount of muscle mass the kid had lost.

“Will you be leavin’ soon?”

“Tomorrow. They’ll be searching Drywaters next and I have to get there before they do.”

**SO SOON OH NO NIKISTAY NIKI STAY STAY NIKI WE STAN A QUEEN**

“Understandable. You won’t be runnin’ into trouble?”

She shook her head quickly. “No. I don’t plan to. And if I do, I can fight.” She sighed. “But first, I have to break it to Ranboo.”

He understood her trepidation. Ranboo had been practically attached to her hip since he’d woken up, often getting distressed whenever she wasn’t near them. Two or three days without seeing her at all would take a massive toll on the kid’s mental health. “Well, he’s in good hands. Don’t worry about it. Phil’d rather die then let anyone hurt his kids.”

Niki laughed, worn, thin, tired. “I’m counting on it, Techno.”

* * *

The goodbye had been particularly brutal on the kids. Ranboo had clung onto Niki for dear life, spindly arms encaging her in a brittle trap. His face was screwed up as he tried not to cry when she hugged him tight and kissed his cheek. “Just a few days,” she promised. “You’ll be okay with Phil and Techno.”

He warbled softly in response, trilling an ‘I love you’ to her as something guttural and instinctual kicked in. Tommy stood beside him, and suddenly, Niki was hugging him as well, ruffling his hair with a gloved hand. “You stay safe, too. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“No promises!” Tommy snarked back, but he couldn’t help the soft smile gracing his face. “Get back in one piece!”

“I will.” With some assistance from Techno, she mounted Phil’s steed who pawed the ground impatiently, and flicked the reins. “Bye!”

Tommy wound his fingers around Ranboo’s as a show of silent support. “Goodbye!” he called, watching as her figure disappeared through the trees slowly. They all stood there, until not even Techno’s sharp eyes could spot her before turning away to go back inside. Ranboo visibly drooped like a wilted flower, the top of his spine curving forward.

Phil raised an eyebrow at Tommy who was already pulling him into the cottage. “Isn’t there something important you’re forgetting?”

Tommy’s face blanked and then lit up. “Oh shit!” Letting go of Ranboo, he sped around to the back of the house as fast as he could, Phil trailing after him. Ranboo glanced up at Techno with a questioning glance, tinged slightly with fear.

“Don’t look at me. I dunno what they’re planning.”

Ranboo shoved his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking, clutching the fabric with his fists tightly as Tommy and Phil came around the corner, the latter holding a basket, the former holding something distinctly rectangular to his chest. “So!” Tommy yelled as soon as he got close. “We got stuff for you, Ranboob!”

The nickname made him roll his eyes fondly. “Yeah?”

Phil opened the basket slowly. “Now, be quiet, or you’ll scare her.”

Scare _her?_

His questions were answered when a rabbit with black and white splotches on her luxurious coat poked her head out, nose twitched in the sudden cold. Ranboo gaped at her, eyes flickering up to Phil a few times and then back to her. She was so _pretty!_

“I found her!” Tommy proclaimed proudly. “She was in the dog kennel this morning, sleeping with Cress, so I took her to Phil.” His voice grew soft. “She reminded me a little bit of you, so I wanted to give her to you. Because Techno said something about animals helping with anxiety or whatever.”

Ranboo was still gaping at the little thing, peering up at him with dark, intelligent eyes. “I-I don-don’t know what to sa-say,” he got out.

“You don’t have to say anything, mate.” Phil gently took a hand and enclosed it over the handle of the basket. “She’s yours. Would you like to give her a name?”

Tommy huffed. “I wanted to call her Henry the Sixth, but Phil said it was a stupid name.”

“I did _not,_ I just suggested for you to let Ranboo name her!”

“It was basically the same thing!”

Tears filled Ranboo’s eyes, blurring his vision and all talk abruptly stopped. “Oh, kiddo,” Phil sighed, placing a hand on his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Truthfully, he wasn’t. His throat had closed up so he could barely talk and the tears were threatening to spill over onto his cheeks which promised to be a painful experience. “I-I don’t de-deserve this,” he gasped out, touching the rabbit’s fur with a trembling finger.

“Hey!” Phil hissed softly. “Hey, no, don’t talk like that. The only thing you didn’t deserve was everything bad that happened to you. You’re a great kid. She’s a present for you, so that you can live a little easier, okay? Now, how about that name?”

Ranboo released a sharp sob, nodding and telling himself to pull it together. “R-Ranbun?” he asked hopefully, praying that they wouldn’t laugh at him.

No one did. Phil nodded, very serious. “Good name. Ranbun it is.” He glanced behind, at Tommy. “There’s one more thing.”

“Oh, right!”

Tommy produced a beautiful red leather notebook with silver detailing crawling its way up the sides and the spine in a series of vines and flowers that shimmered in the sunlight. Ranboo took it warily, giving the basket back to Phil to flick through the book. Creamy, smooth paper with that familiar new book scent greeted him. “I uh, just thought that your old book was too full of bad memories for you to keep flicking through it.” That was true. The old book resided in a chest beside Ranboo’s bed in the spare bedroom, still untouched. He couldn’t bear to look at it, even if it helped him. “So this is your fresh start, here in the Arctic Empire.”

Techno scoffed. “It’s not that, don’t listen to Phil.” But his eyes were soft and warm as they surveyed the scene.

Ranboo could’ve cried again, hugging the book tight. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!”

Phil said nothing, bringing him into an embrace that Tommy joined after a few seconds. His arms didn’t smell comforting like Niki’s, but they were safe and warm and everything a hug should be. “It’s no problem. We’re glad you like it.”

Tommy punched Ranboo lightly when they pulled away. “Wanna see if we can teach Ranbun some tricks?”

“Yeah!”

Techno cleared his throat. “I think we should perhaps eat something first. For lunch, my specialty. Potato soup,” he intoned with a dramatic flourish.

Tommy groaned. Phil cackled. Ranboo grinned.

* * *

There was plenty to pack away in Drywaters, as it turned out. Not just the physical things, but the memories that came with them. The memories tainted by recent events. Niki wasn’t sure if she could ever look at Fundy the same again.

For the past day, she’d been working to roll up blankets, disassemble beds, take down pot plants, unravel carpets, collect stoves and crafting tables and chests as well as shove everything valuable into an enderchest for later. She wished she could say that she felt nothing while she worked.

Niki had been forcing herself to gnaw on a slice of bread and some cooked beef so that her body wouldn’t’ shut down from the stress and the labour, the tiredness that settled into her bones as she boarded up the entrances to rooms and threw or burned everything that she couldn’t fit into her sacks. She’d lit plenty of torches so that the monsters wouldn’t intrude on her work, though she’d need to take them all down later. The horse stood nearby, armoured and still, munching contently on haybales she’d found in the stables she’d constructed.

Drywaters had been her pride and joy at some point. But things had changed, and now she wasn’t sure if she could ever come back here without breaking down. Truthfully, the only thing keeping her going apart from the nibbles of food she shoved down was adrenaline and spite.

It was while she was arranging a group of daggers in their case, polishing and sharpening them a little so that they would be in good condition for when they arrived back at the cottage, that she heard the footsteps approach.

“Niki?”

A voice that once filled her with the sense of safety, of happiness even to hear, now only sparked deep revulsion in her gut.

“Fundy,” she greeted coolly. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t need to turn and look at him to see his incredulous stare. “I made this place too!” He hesitated. “Why are you packing it up?”

Niki stood, brushing herself off with one of the daggers still in her hand along with the polish. “I have a new home. Away from here. Drywaters serves no purpose anymore.”

“So you’re coming back?” Fundy sounded hopeful, and she felt the flickering beginnings of deep, unadulterated loathing. “To L’Manberg, right?”

“No,” she breathed. No, never again would she step foot in that cursed place. “I’m going someplace else.”

“Where?”

“I don’t see why I should tell you.”

Quiet. His voice turned hard. “You know about Ranboo then?”

“I do.” Her heart was cold. Her expression, empty. She was the queen of ice, and here, with the frost between them, she was the deadly one.

“Niki.” Already, the reproachful edge to his tone. “I didn’t have a _choice!_ Tubbo was the one who ordered it, not me!”

His footsteps approached. His hand on her shoulders.

His hand stained in Ranboo’s blood. His hand that held him down mercilessly as he screamed and begged for mercy that he wouldn’t get. His hand guiding Ranboo back to his cell. His hand dragging Ranboo away. His hand patting Ranboo’s shoulder at the announcement of his execution.

His hand. His filthy, disgusting hand.

Rage bloomed, a small flame turning into an inferno that swallowed up her whole being, the tore her apart from the inside. Rage condensed into one, specific point at her shoulder where he was still holding her as if they were still friends. As if they were still family.

Her teeth ground against each other. Niki’s heart was colder than steel. Colder than ice. So cold she felt _nothing._

Two seconds later, and she’d whipped around, shoving Fundy into the nearest wall and pressing the sharp edge of the dagger into his neck. Eyes wide and wild, the prey searched around for an escape, completely at the mercy of its predator. The fox was sly, but the wolf was smart and strong and protective. “Niki!” he gasped. “Niki, please!”

“You are a coward,” she spat. “You are a spineless coward. You walked into that room and you helped those bastards torture him. You were part of his execution. You offered him no help. Nothing. Not even a little mercy.” Niki’s voice was low, snarling and thrumming with emotion.

“You have to understand, I—”

She let out a manic laugh. The blade dug in deeper and Fundy whimpered as blood trickled, wet and crimson, down her fingers. “It was always about _you_ , wasn’t it? Not _your_ fault, how _you_ didn’t help orchestrate this whole thing. You, you, _you._ You’re selfish, Fundy. You’re selfish and a liar and the biggest weakling I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes narrowed, claws sharpening as she went in for the kill. “Wilbur would be disgusted with you.”

There were tears on his face. She didn’t care. “Niki, I didn’t want any of this to happen! But you-you should’ve heard what Quack-what Quackity said about Ranboo! He’s dangerous! Endermen like him are—”

“ _He’s a child!”_ she screamed, so full of rage and grief and weariness that it tore at her throat, her heartstrings. “He’s a child that you tortured for information that he didn’t even know he had! You helped Dream! You are just as despicable as he is!”

“You don’t understand!” he bellowed back.

“I understand more than you do! Who was the one who raised him? Who was the one who was there when no one else could be? Who watched him grow up? Tell me Fundy, since you know so much more than I do! Tell me how I don’t know my own fucking _brother_!”

She pulled him around, getting a flinch as his bare skin scraped across the rough stone wall. She didn’t care for it, throwing him to the ground. He hit the stone floor with a startled cry of pain which morphed into a terrified shriek when she stomped down hard on his chest and drew her sword to shove the tip at his throat. “Niki! You don’t have to do this!”

“How many lives?” she asked instead, cold, unfeeling. He didn’t answer, trying to squirm away, breathing laboured. She stomped again, feeling something crack under her boots. “ _How many?”_

“Tw-two!”

Her lips turned up into a sneer. “Then this won’t be too damaging, I think.”

Fundy raised his hands as she raised her sword fear in his eyes as she aimed for his heart. “What would _Ranboo_ think?” he burst out.

It shouldn’t have made her pause like that. He was so undeserving of mercy. So stupid, cowering on the floor, cringing away from her wrath as if he was the one who was locked up, who was tortured.

But it made her pause, and think. Ranboo wouldn’t want this. It had never been in his nature to want revenge on those who had hurt him, a trait she had thought came from herself. He wouldn’t want this. In another life, Fundy was one of his best friends. In another world, they might’ve still been best friends.

And looking at it another way, she could argue that killing Fundy would put a target on her head. Something she certainly didn’t need with her brother to protect. She could take Quackity or Fundy or Tubbo in a fight. But it wasn’t worth risking everything she had left (Puffy was back in L’Manberg and Dragon forbid they get her as well).

So she withdrew her sword, watching in pure abhorrence, the way Fundy trembled head to foot as he crawled back onto his knees, panting heavily. She resisted the urge to kick him in the side. “Fine. Go back to L’Manberg. Run back to the power you cherish so much. I don’t care. But,” she continued lowly, grabbing him by his shirt front and making him look in her eyes, “if you come within even ten feet of Ranboo, I will not hesitate to hunt you down and put your head on a pike. You are no longer welcome to any home we reside it. Do you understand, Fundy?”

He nodded furiously, hands grappling her own. She let go, wiping away the blood on her pants. “I will. I will, I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” she said wearily. “Now go. _Get out!_ And don’t tell _anyone_ about what happened here! _”_

And he ran, tail between his legs, straight out of Drywaters and back into the country of horrors, leaving Niki feeling more satisfied than she had in days as she sat back down to keep cleaning her knives.

* * *

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Oh come on, it’s just a bit of wood!” Tommy yelled back at Ranboo, who looked extremely apprehensive as they stared down the great, spruce forest. “We’ll be _fine_. Techno’s the human GPS, Phil can fly, there’s no way we can get lost without someone finding us.”

“Yeah, and I have terrible memory plus you can barely walk as it is—”

“Hey!”

“—meaning that if we get jumped by a zombie, we can’t exactly run back to safety.”

Tommy sighed and Ranboo rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Listen!” Tommy tried. “We have our comms on us, we have Phil or Techno on speed dial, and we have a sword each. Haven’t you ever killed a stupid (‘stewpid’, Ranboo’s mind supplied unhelpfully) skeleton before?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Exactly! We’re all big men, here!” Tommy grabbed a hoodie sleeve and dragged him alone. “Onwards!”

Ranboo cursed his lack of a backbone as they descended further into the woods, weaving through snow-covered winter wonderland, whacking each other with branches covered in needle-like leaves and throwing pinecones at other trees. “How much wood are we supposed to get, anyway?” Ranboo asked, taking out a netherite axe Techno gave him.

“Few stacks at least. We’re building a _house,_ Ranboo, how much wood do you think we’ll need?”

“Okay, fair.” Tommy grabbed his own axe, hobbling to the base of the tree Ranboo had claimed and swinging down with a shit-eating grin. “Get your own tree!”

“I was here first!”

Ranboo’s eyes narrowed. “You are _so_ lucky Phil isn’t here.”

Tommy, the little shit, smirked. “Damn right.”

Despite the small nuisance, Ranboo got straight into work, having a little trouble with his weak muscles, but he’d be damned before he let Tommy win whatever feverish competition that they had going on. One tree. Then two. Three, five, seven, ten.

His arms burned with exertion he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it was clear Tommy wasn’t doing much better either. “You-you okay?” Ranboo panted.

Grunting, the other kid just nodded, a determined scowl fixed on his face. “Fuck you, bitch! I’m winning!”

“ _This isn’t a competition!”_ Ranboo screeched, speeding up nonetheless. Oh, for Techno to show up and glare at them disapprovingly.

“It _is,_ you’re just a little bitch!”

“Now, now. That’s not very nice, Tommy.”

_Prison, pain, water, blood, bruises, sharp words and sharper nails and he couldn’t breathe because he was here and he was going to kill him oh god his execution he was going to kill him and Tommy and he had the water and the muzzle and he wanted to sob and scream and curl up into a ball please no_

“Ranboo!” Tommy’s frantic voice in his ear, a force dragging him away, drawing him out of his frozen state. “R-Ranboo, come on, let’s-let’s go—”

Dream raised his axe. “Weapon on the floor, Tommy,” he said coolly. “Come on. You know the drill.”

Tommy’s jaw clenched. “I don’t listen to you, green bitch.”

“But you will.” Dream cocked his head at them. “Some things don’t change, Tommy. Weapons down. _Now._ ” A thunk as the axe slipped from his fingers. Tommy wobbled dangerously on his one good leg. Ranboo had tuned in enough to steady him with a shaking hand. “Very good.”

“What-what do you want, Dream?”

He laughed. Ranboo flinched violently, pressing his lips together to stop himself from crying. “I’m here to take you two back. The holiday must’ve been nice, but Ranboo has an overdue execution, and you have an exile to finish.”

“No,” he breathed, knees buckling. Tommy fell with him, landing in a shivering heap on Ranboo’s lap. “ _Please,_ no.”

Dream came closer. The two of them shrank in on themselves, but Ranboo couldn’t find it in himself to move away. Stuck to the ground. The walls were obsidian and he was going to die he didn’t want to die—

Fingers enclosed around Tommy’s arm, ripping him away from his friend. He stumbled, crying out as his prosthetic dragged on the ground, rubbing against his stump. “ _Stop!”_

He landed on the snow and Dream was on him, hands on his leg and what was he doing? Oh. Oh. Tommy’s leg was detached and thrown away, into the woods where none of them could ever hope to find it again, buried in the snow. “Shut up,” he growled, forcing his hands behind him and taking out a length of rope. Tommy locked watery eyes with Ranboo, face red, tears leaking onto the ground below. _‘Go!’_ he mouthed.

But Ranboo couldn’t move.

Not when Dream let go, leaving Tommy in the snow. Not when he came over and ran a rough hand through two-toned hair. Fingers locked under his chin, forcing his gaze upward. “Get away from him!” Tommy screamed, distant in his quiet mind. “Leave him alone!”

His thumb brushed away the tears rolling down his face, trailing down, down, down, before locking around both wrists and bringing them behind. Rough rope encircled them and Ranboo finally, finally began to sob out incoherent pleas for his life, for Tommy’s life because he couldn’t go back he couldn’t _he couldn’t!_

His wrists were tightly bound a second later and he slumped, chin resting against his chest in defeat. “Not done yet,” Dream said, and gently, very gently, lifted his head back up. The jangle of metal registered. Fear came back, full force as the muzzle was held in front of his face.

“N-no, no, no, no, wait, Dream wait, _please no, please!”_ He clamped his mouth shut.

“Shh.” He pushed it against his lips, tighter and tighter until Ranboo was sure the little indents in it would leave marks on his skin. “Come on.” He sounded frustrated. Ranboo shook his head desperately, not daring to open his mouth. “Come _on!”_ The muzzle dropped from view and nails were digging into the soft skin of his neck, squeezing tight. His touch _burned._

Something solid pressed against his oesophagus, constricting and he couldn’t _breathe_ please let go please let go please let go please let go please please please please please _please—_

Ranboo gasped, which was enough for the metal restraint to be slid into his mouth and fastened behind his head. A boot shoved him over, onto the snow, unresponsive and shivering and quietly crying. Snow melted around his cheek, burning and searing but he barely felt the pain through the numbness and panic that was beginning to overwhelm him.

“—fucking _bitch!_ Let go of him! If it’s me you want, then keep it like that! Don’t bring him into this!”

“Oh come on. I just said I wanted both of you.” He could hear the smile behind the mask. “You two are my favourite people on the server, after all.”

Tommy stared at Ranboo, terror written plainly across his face. “Don’t execute him,” he whispered.

Dream hummed in faux thoughtfulness. “Are you the one making decisions here, or isn’t that Tubbo?”

“You won’t get-get away with this, Dream!”

At that, Dream cackled. “Oh, I know. But by then, it’ll be too late.” He shifted his mask to the side of his face, showing a Cheshire grin. “No one would be able to help you then.” He grabbed at Ranboo’s arm, wrenching him up and hauling him over to Tommy, doing the same with the other kid. Tommy struggled and squirmed, face screwed up with fear, fought until Dream slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and continued on their way.

They were taken further and further away from home, through the thick snow and the pine needles underneath their feet, muffling their footsteps. They were taken, and Ranboo couldn’t stop crying, his tears torching his face in unbearable heat as the tundra slipped away beneath their feet.

* * *

Logstedshire looked different to what Ranboo remembered (which wasn’t much, admittedly).

The place was scorched, wood blackened and charred and crumbling beneath any pressure. Something terrible had happened here. Judging by the expression on Tommy’s face, he’d been there when it had happened. “Welcome home, Tommy!” Dream exclaimed with false cheer, dropping the two boys on the sand of the beach after making Ranboo set his respawn to a bed surrounded by iron bars. Tommy nudged Ranboo to move up, eyeing the waves warily.

He found it in himself to silently shuffle away, one of his long, aching legs still touching Tommy’s hip. He couldn’t lose contact. He couldn’t let go of Tommy or something bad would happen. “Why’d you bring us here?” Tommy’s voice sounded dead, drained. It had gone down a few octaves and pulled open a pit in Ranboo’s stomach.

Dream busied himself further up, on top of the grassy slope, hammering a metal pike into the ground. “I was thinking that we get you settled first, and then I drop off Ranboo in L’Manberg. It works for everyone.”

He said it casually. As if he were organising a sleepover. “Oh,” was all Tommy said- _could_ say.

“Mhm. Should be a decent arrangement. I’m just making a little place for Ranboo to sit. I’ve already got a shelter up for you, Tommy.”

Tommy glanced over at Ranboo, still muzzled but no longer crying. He felt so tired. Tired of the pain and the hiding and the panic that buzzed in his veins constantly. “Please let us go,” he said softly. “We won’t tell anyone. Just-just _please._ ”

“Too late for that now, I think.”

Tommy struggled his way up to Ranboo’s side. His expression looked void of all hope and he could feel the burning tears gather in his eyes again. “Listen to me,” and his voice cracked. “Ranboo, I want you to know that whatever Dream says to you isn’t true at all. You-you’re not a monster or a horrible person.” He scowled. “You’re not his _friend._ He’s trying to hurt you with his words, but we won’t let him. Technoblade will come and get us and we’ll be okay.”

Okay was such a foreign word in a time like this. A time where nothing was certain. Tears clogged his throat but he nodded anyway, mumbling agreement through the metal.

“What are you two talking about over there?” Dream was jolly, ecstatic to have his favourite toys come join him. He wandered over, and they both eyed the axe slung casually at his belt. “Not much I hope.”

His fingers on Ranboo’s upper arm, dragging him up and away from Tommy, from the last anchor of true safety he had left in the world, and a strangled sob burst free from his mouth, unbidden and ugly and frantic. “Don’t do this, Dream!”

The rope on his wrists looped around the pole Dream had put up in the grass, tying him firmly to the ground and forcing him to sit down, knees up against his chest as he struggled to breathe properly. Head in knees is what Niki told him.

Niki didn’t know about this. She’d never find out.

That thought alone was enough to get him to spiral.

Ranboo shrieked when Dream placed a bucket of water down near him, heart thundering against his chest.

_Again? No, not again please I can’t, please not again, you deserve this, I don’t I don’t!_

“To drink.” Dream smirked. “It gets real hot out here,” was all he said before turning away.

It was true. Compared to the icy Arctic tundra, this beach was far warmer. He was already beginning to overheat under the layers, already felt parched with a dry tongue and a sore throat.

It was some kind of cruel joke. To put what he feared and needed the most just out of reach, forever untouchable. Ranboo was going to lose his first life to dehydration, he realised with a slow start.

Ranboo didn’t want to die.

But then Tommy was picked up and taken away to one of the craters, shooting him one final glance as he was. He disappeared into a ramshackle little house.

He felt like crying with the few tears he had left to spare. Felt like sobbing his heart out at how the day had gone, how awful their situation had become. How much he missed Niki, Techno and Phil, their gentle touches and plentiful food and Ranbun and Enderchest and oh Dragon he hadn’t seen Enderchest in so _long_

Fat droplets splashed onto his pant legs, crystalline and pretty in a morbid way. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe properly. He was alone again. That scared him most. Alone out here with no one, not even Fundy, to keep him occupied as he died slowly.

Ranboo was going to die. He was going to die here, in this crippling loneliness without even having the chance to say goodbye.

* * *

_He remembered his obsession with animals began when he befriended a tabby cat accidentally. She had come around their cottage and looked at him with eyes that didn’t scream fear or hate, and he was so enamoured that he gave her a whole fish._

_She came back the next day and the next, only when Niki wasn’t around. His secret little friend. Of course, she found out after she caught him raiding the pantry at three in the morning, but she hadn’t been mad, only asking if she could meet the little cat._

_They took her in and called her Cod because she liked cod._

* * *

A cat meowed at him, bringing him out of his dazed slumber. Ranboo was suddenly acutely aware of every ache, of the intense thirst that made itself known in his shuddery breaths, his tongue that felt like sandpaper and could barely taste the metal in his mouth. He squinted up at the sun, high in the sky, trying to recall how he arrived at that moment with vague panic crawling into his heart.

_Snow, pinecones, wood, mask, fear fear fear fear fear fear fear—_

No, no, no, no he couldn’t be back with Dream, he couldn’t be or that meant-meant that—

The bucket was right there. The bucket was there and Ranboo stopped breathing for a minute because the bucket was there and he couldn’t move away and he was going to _die_ he didn’t want to die please don’t let him die

“Ranboo?” The voice alone made him flinch. “How’re you feeling?” No answer. Not with the-the muzzle on. “Oh right. Sorry about that.” He dropped in front of Ranboo, a calloused finger running along the side of his jaw gently. “Must be pretty tired.” Dream’s voice was too loud. The light was too bright. It hurt his head. It felt like something sharp piercing his temples and he just wanted it to _stop._ “Don’t worry. Things are going very well with Tommy. You’ll see him soon.” A chuckle. “Don’t worry about a thing, Ranboo.”

Then, he was gone and Ranboo was alone.

* * *

_There was a bear given to him on his birthday once. Niki had traded for it with a basket of peaches and a pound of apples._

_He remembered the day it was given to him. She had a smile, that mischievous smile that made her eyes light up and her cheeks dimple, stuck on her face, unable to school her mouth into a more serious expression. She had sat him down on the worn sofa on top of the old throw blankets and pillows and had him close his eyes._

_He’d trusted her. Of course he did! So he did as he was told. Something soft was settled into his lap, and when he opened his eyes, a black and white teddy bear stared up at him with glassy, unseeing eyes that were both blue. “He looks a little like you!” she’d said excitedly._

_It was still around, wedged in his enderchest. A reminder of simpler times._

* * *

The world was spinning, and he felt vaguely sick when he came to next.

The green from the grass bled into the sky, pierced through with a shot of white that sent a jolt of agony through his skull. The air wobbled, physically dancing an odd little jig as everything around him began to dissipate with it. There was blue from the sea, he thought, the deadly sea that glinted off light. The sea that swam around him, that refused to touch him, to drown him.

He wished it did.

The smell of flowers intertwined with the salty brine of the sea created a sickly miasma that clouded his thoughts and made him focus more on the dolphins that flipped in and out of his visions. Dolphins were nice. Hard to make friends with or keep as pets, but that was probably for the better.

Ranboo wondered why there was something in his mouth all the time. Why he could see a bucket in front but couldn’t bring himself to move to it, to grab it and dunk his head in to down as much water as he could physically handle. His jaw ached, his cheeks stung, his body felt like it had been dragged through the Nether and back.

He just wanted some water.

Water would fix everything up. Never mind the tiny voice screaming ‘danger!’ every time he thought about drinking it. Never mind the faded terror that lived on in the back of his mind, along with the dolphins and sheep wherever they went to rest.

Vision blurring again, he closed his eyes again, welcoming the darkness for the…he couldn’t remember how many times he’d blacked out.

It didn’t matter. Not in the end, anyway.

* * *

_Sometimes the other village kids would get a little too rough. Sometimes they shoved him too hard, or they spilt water everywhere and he’d get a little burned._

_“What happened?” she asked warily, eyeing the wounds on his arms, the raw skin on his face. “Was it the boys again?” She looked sad as she looped an arm around his shoulders. She knew and he didn’t even say anything._

_Niki sat him on top of the counter and took out the healing potions, first rubbing them into his arms before bandaging them up and then into his cheeks to get rid of the tear burns. “You can’t keep letting those boys hurt you, Boo.”_

_He shrugged. “They don’t mean it.”_

_She’d harrumphed and carried him to the living room, draping a blanket over the two of them. “Sleep is the best medicine,” she’d remind him, and he’d nod off, no questions asked._

* * *

“Get up!”

Sharp stinging on his face as he forced his eyes open, struggling under the glare of the sun. No dolphins this time. Only turtles. Was it only aquatic animals?

“Oh.” That was a new voice. He could tell.

There was someone new in front of him. Something shiny in his hand, sparkling all the colours of the rainbow. He would’ve smiled if he could move his mouth. Why couldn’t he move his mouth?

“Do it, Tommy. Now.”

The new person (Tommy?) came forward. They walked funny. Maybe because they had only one leg. The thing in his hand was pointed at Ranboo. It was sharp. The point dug into his chest. It hurt, but the pain felt oddly dulled. “I don’t-Dream he doesn’t—”

“ _He_ blew up the community house. _He’s_ the reason you were exiled. Come on Tommy. _I’d_ never lie to you.”

The point dug in more. Ranboo whimpered and shook his head feebly. _Please stop, it hurts._

“He’s defenceless, Dream! Can’t you just…lock him up?”

“And let him come back before he’s taught his lesson? Just do it, Tommy.”

Ranboo’s eyes slid to the ocean, blurring at the sheer brightness that overtook his whole vision. It hurt. “This isn’t-this doesn’t seem right.”

“Tommy. Come on now, you don’t trust me? Your best friend?”

Ranboo caught the blink—no, no, wait, that was a wink. The wink was with one eye. Or was that a blink? He couldn’t remember.

And then there was blood and muffled screaming. He smelt the metallic tang in the air. He felt hands, shaking violently, rip at something around his wrists.

Without support, Ranboo fell forward, nearly face-planting into the ground. He watched as lifeless eyes met his own, no longer behind a mask and he shivered and turned away as they disappeared with the breeze. “Okay, okay, I’m calling Techno and Philza. They should be here before he respawns.” The voice was terrified, frantic, fast paced. “Oh Dragon, what did he do to you?”

Already, he felt himself fade back out again, mumbling something lost to the metal before losing himself yet again, despite the yelling in his ear.

* * *

“— _you get the fuck away from them!_ ”

Ranboo registered being cradled in gentle arms. “You’re okay, Ranboo,” she said, and he felt his heart light up. She was there! She was there, and things would be alright!

He chirped to tell her that he could hear her, but nothing came out and he frowned to himself. He tried again. Not even a peep. “It’s the key,” someone else said worriedly. Ranboo caught a white and orange shirt. “Dream has it on him.”

“Get on it, Sap,” she ordered. “We either take it back by force, or we loot his body for it.”

Ranboo looked around, twisted his body to take in his surroundings, fixated by the dark green and the pink clashing against lime green. They were screaming. It hurt his ears.

She hummed a little, her soft hand covering his eyes as the man in white disappeared to join the battle. The lime green was losing by a lot. He wondered why he felt happy about it. “Don’t watch,” she whispered.

He didn’t watch, but he heard the roar of pain.

Hands on the back of his head. The pressure around his skull was relieved He could open his mouth again!

“Dehydration, it looks like.” Dark green sounded grim. “Minor burns and cuts but nothing a potion can’t fix. Tommy’s got a concussion and broken ribs. He says he’s missing the prosthetic.”

“Worry about that later. Let’s get the kids home.” A pause. “I don’t owe you anything, do I Sapnap?”

A laugh. “Nah. Just stay outta trouble. I’m grabbing Karl and George and running. Who knows? Maybe we’ll build someplace close to y’all.”

She stroked his hair, humming her lullaby under her breath. The last dregs of conversation were beginning to die out around him, as was his resolve to stay awake. He knew that there were problems to be dealt with, but nothing seemed more welcoming at that point than sleep.

The last notes of the song played on loop in his dreams.

* * *

The doorbell rang. Ranboo was the closest one to it, so he naturally took it upon himself to answer with a cursory “I’ll get it!”

A week after The Incident, as they so creatively dubbed it, things had relatively gone back to a shaky new standard of normal. Niki was neck deep in building, and as much as Ranboo wished he could help, he physically wasn’t able to do much, far too weak to even walk the distance between here to the Nether portal. Phil said it was because of repeated starvation and muscle atrophy or whatever.

With Dream’s second death, a message from Niki was sent back to L’Manberg. A firm warning not to come near any of them, lest they feel her wrath. It had worked. They hadn’t been bothered by anyone at all. Not even Quackity had dared.

This tentative new peace was like walking on eggshells most of the time, though. Little things could make him spiral into a panic attack or trigger a flashback. He had nightmares, which were nothing new. But they’d gotten worse.

It would be fine. That was what Niki had said. They had each other, after all.

Each other, Ranboo realised, opening the door, and a few others.

“Aye!” Puffy said cheerfully, arms full of cats. He hadn’t seen her in _weeks_ and she was here suddenly, a little older looking, but that was definitely the same smile Niki was engaged to. “Thought I’d make a delivery for a Mr Ranboo when I arrived here.”

Delivery—Oh.

“ _Enderchest!”_ he cried, tears springing up of their own vocation, as the cat dove into his hands. He buried his face in her fur, shakily breathing against her steady little heartbeat. Someone else wormed their way into his arms. “Jeffery?” He looked up, face to face with Enderpearl and his wolf, both of which immediately rushed toward him, knocking him off-kilter and sending him sliding to the ground.

“It seems like they missed you!”

He’d missed them too. He’d missed them so much that the hole in his chest begun to fill itself in as happy tears sprung up. “Tha-thank you, Puffy!” he choked out.

“No problem.” She had on a soft smile. “Anything for my future brother-in-law.”

He patted his wolf—he needed a name, a name, a good name, something like his and _Dogboo was perfect—_ Dogboo’s woolly coat, hugging his neck. He and Cressida would make such good friends. “Nice to see you guys,” he whispered into the fur, grinning to himself, wide and genuine.

At last, Ranboo was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i (21M) imprisoned this monster kid (???M) in this high security prison i commissioned and regularly tortured him via water. but now, his sister (19F), my rival (21M), my rival's younger brother (16M) (who i actually exiled and drove to the point of s*icide) and my rival's dad (old as fuck M) are really mad at me even tho the ender kid kinda blew up one of the most important structures on my server. also my best friend (19M) and my boyfriend (24M) won't talk to me after i took my friend to see the kid in prison. and the kid broke out and my rival's brother fucking killed me???? twice??????? i died twice????????????  
> AITA reddit??????
> 
> \- basically the plot
> 
> anyway, sorry for the drop in quality rip lmao. what's your favourite part of this whole fic, because lemme tell you, the fundy and niki thing in drywaters was a carthartic experience. but it's one in the morning and im gonna go to bed and curse myself because i have school in the morning :) hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!


	4. do YOU wanna read more fics from ME???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hopefully i don't regret this later

Hello, hello, hello to everyone reading this message! While this isn’t necessarily a chapter, it does lead into more reading material by yours truly.

So the reason I decided to go anonymous was so my actual account on this site wouldn’t be linked to these fics. I have an Aesthetic, guys. I will not sacrifice that Aesthetic for block men. HOWEVER that does mean that no one can read other stuff I’ve written, which apparently people want??

So, below I’ve included links to other fics I’ve written in order from first to last. Some are good, some aren’t, and basically I really like the hurt/comfort trope but can you blame me??

You will also notice that I enjoy switching it up. I love Villain!Schlatt and Dad!Schlatt equally and frankly, no one can stop me.

So uh. Enjoy I guess?

BTW: I’m copy-pasting this exact text for all of the announcements on all the fics because I am a lazy hoe. That is all.

['low, keep you head, keep your head low'](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994845)

a finished fic series set in Manberg with schlatt as the villain

['when the world's at stake, there are lives to save'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790258/chapters/68033464)

featuring dadschlatt and quackity whump, as well as tubbo being the younger brother and villain wilbur

['i'll take what's broken and i'll make it whole'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646838)

niki being a bamf and also ranboo's older sister

['and the earth said she loved them, because they are love'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286312)

the fic that made even my stone cold heart cry a lil bit as i wrote it. unsympathetic anarchists and the goddess of the earth being the only cool adult ever

**Author's Note:**

> i jsut wanna say fuck canon and give me my goddamn family dynamics please and thank you uwu
> 
> anyway, leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed and i'll see you in the next chapter whenever the heck i finish it :D


End file.
